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Copyright N° ^ 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 



Amelie in France 


By 

MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN 

h 

Author of “ The Watson Girls f “The Watsons 
of the Country “Jasper Thorn,” “Jack 
Chumleigh at Boarding School,” etc . 



PHILADELPHIA 

H. L. Kilner & Co. 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1912, by 
Maurice Francis Egan 


©C!.A327993 t " 

&0 " 3 - ^ 


Part of this story appeared with great 
success in the Ave Maria some time ago. 
The thanks of the author are due to the 
reverend editor for permission to reprint. 


4 


Contents 



A Few Words 


6 

I. 

At Home 


7 

II. 

The Blood of the MacCarthys 

15 

III. 

The Telegram 


24 

IV. 

Elizabeth and St. Elizabeth 

3 1 

V. 

Elizabeth's Struggles . 


37 

VI. 

Mrs. Brogan 


44 

VII. 

The Battle . 


52 

VIII. 

Aunt Susan’s Decision . 


5 8 

IX. 

They Are Off 


66 

X. 

New York at Last ! 


73 

XI. 

Another Telegram 


84 

XII. 

Lost .... 


9i 

XIII. 

The Rising of the Moon 


97 

XIV. 

The Setting of the Sun 


102 

XV. 

Among the Breakers . 


108 

XVI. 

The Group on the Beach 


114 

XVII. 

“ Through the Long Night" 

122 

XVIII. 

A Lesson for Elise 


132 

XIX. 

A Bit of Glass 


144 

XX. 

A Portentous Hint 


156 

XXI. 

The Gunpowder . 


166 

XXII. 

The Tiger . 


i75 

XXIII. 

Jeffreys’ Danger . 


184 

XXIV. 

All’s Well! . 


193 


5 


A Few Words 


It was natural enough that Amelie Watson 
the cousin of the young persons of this story, 
should try to do her best for them. Their mother 
was dead and she wanted to help them : — so she 
did it, in her own way, from her home in France. 
All the good in this book, is due to the influence 
of Amelie in France. 


Amelie in France 


I 

AT HOME 

“ I love home,” called out Tom. “ I don’t 
want to go. It’s so comfy here. Aunt Susan 
almost lets us do as we please, and if she wasn’t 
always reading Cousin Amelie’s letters to us, 
we’d just grow up as we liked.” 

“ You’re wrong there,” said his older brother, 
Dick. “ You forget that when father is at home, 
we have to step lively.” 

“ I long for foreign lands,” said Elizabeth, dra- 
matically ; “ the sea, the sea ” 

“ The land ! the land ! ” 

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” 
said little Lucy, entering ; “ but I’m on Eliza- 
beth’s side ! ” 

They all laughed. 

They were about to leave their native land. 
Elizabeth played the “ Star Spangled Banner ” 
7 


8 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


and “ Hail, Columbia ! ” every day for a week 
after they received the Dublin letter ; and Dick 
wondered half a dozen times whether they would 
ever celebrate a Fourth of July again. Tom de- 
clared that he would always hoist the American 
flag and shoot off firecrackers, come what might. 
Lucy was really the saddest of all, because she 
loved Aunt Susan better than any of the others ; 
and though she did not talk patriotism at all, 
she looked wistfully at the white houses and the 
green fields around her, and thought to herself 
that Thornydale was the prettiest place in all the 
world. 

The boys and girls of Thornydale envied the 
young MacCarthys, and most of them said many 
kind things. Elizabeth burst into tears — or, at 
least, she came into Aunt Susan’s sitting-room 
with tears in her eyes, — because Seth Langley 
had brought her his pet rabbit as a remembrance. 
And Elizabeth had been very rude at times to 
Seth. 

Seth was an elderly man, half-witted, supported 
by kind people, and he liked to stop the children 
on their way from school to tell them about 
his youthful adventures at sea. Sometimes 


AT HOME 


9 


Elizabeth had been impatient, and had cut Seth’s 
stories off short. And now that he had brought 
her his only treasure — the white rabbit, — she felt 
very sorry. 

“ And I thought he hated me,” she said ; “ and 
I avoided him every time I passed. And he 
didn’t remember it. He said I’d always been so 
kind to him, he couldn’t let me go without show- 
ing his thankfulness in some way. And when he 
came, I just thought of Amelie’s story about old 
Jean, her aunt’s servant, and how Amelie made 
him happy by pretending that she did not notice 
his poverty and bad humor. I wish I could 
write letters like Amelie, Aunt Susan. Amelie’s 
letters from France do influence us all for good. 
Poor old Seth ! ” 

“ He is a good old man,” remarked Aunt Susan 
gently. “ People think more kindly of us than 
we imagine. I have always found it so. And 
the secret of your Cousin Amelie’s influence is 
that she is sincere.” 

“ And may I take the rabbit across the ocean, 
Auntie ? ” 

Aunt Susan hesitated. 

“ I’ll take charge of it,” Dick said. 


10 


AM EL IE IN FRANCE 


Aunt Susan looked at him doubtfully. She 
knew, from observation, that Dick’s “ care ” 
would kill the rabbit in a short time. Dick’s 
care was the kind of care that might even kill 
the nine lives of a cat. 

Elizabeth gave Dick what he called a “ baleful 
glance.” Thereupon he laughed. Elizabeth loved 
romantic stories of princesses who used long 
words and high-sounding phrases. Her idol was 
her cousin, Amelie Watson, who had lived for 
some time with some other relatives in France. 
Dick never laughed at Amelie, though her letters 
were almost too often quoted by Elizabeth. 
Amelie, he said, was a “good sport.” 

Elizabeth tried to “ draw herself up haughtily.” 
Elizabeth had read some novels, and she was 
always imitating her favorite heroines. She 
never cried : she always “ burst into tears ” ; 
she was never surprised: she was always “pro- 
foundly agitated ” ; and Dick grinned frequently 
in imitation of her “ slow, sweet smile.” But she 
was a nice girl, in spite of her affectations. 

Lucy ran into the room, her yellow curls flying 
behind her, with two large packages in her hands. 

“ It’s maple-sugar ! ” she announced. “ And 


AT HOME 


11 


Jim Brogan, the milk-bo y, says we’re to take it, 
with his compliments.” 

The milk-boy indeed ! Elizabeth “ drew herself 
up haughtily,” and said, in what she imagined to 
be a “ scornful tone ” : “ I thought you had more 
pride, Lucy, than to take anything from the milk- 
boy.” 

“ Why ? ” said Lucy, — “ why ? His mother 
said he might give the maple-sugar to us. And 
he meant it kindly.” 

Aunt Susan was quiet ; she often learned a great 
deal of her charges’ characters by letting them 
talk. 

“ I could never take a gift from such a low 
person,” said Elizabeth, with her grandest air. 
“ I consider myself above such people. They are 
inferior.” 

“ Oh, Elizabeth ! ” cried Lucy, shocked. 

“ Oh, Elizabeth, Eliza, Bessy or Beth ! ” imitated 
Dick. “ What would Amelie’s grand friend, the 
Countess de Beauclaire, say ? ” 

“ I don’t care what she would say,” Lucy 
piped, in her sweet, little voice. 

“ Look in one of Amelie’s letters and find out ! ” 
said Dick. “ I think you’re an awful snob, Liz.” 


12 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ Children ! ” said Aunt Susan. 

Lucy turned her blue eyes towards Aunt Susan 
in astonishment. 

“ Has Jim Brogan done anything wrong ? ” she 
asked. “ He has always seemed so good and in- 
dustrious. He is always so clean and neat when 
he serves Mass. He must have a good mother.” 

Elizabeth tried to “ curl her lip.” Dick caught 
her in the act. He laughed. 

“ What are you doing now, Liz ? ” he said. 
“ 4 Drawing yourself up proudly ’ or ‘ letting your 
eyes flash in utter scorn ’ ? I know all the signs, 
but I can’t tell what you are doing now.” 

This caused Elizabeth to drop what Dick called 
her “ high tragedy airs.” 

“ She’s just thinking that Jim Brogan, the milk- 
boy, is so inferior that we can’t take a piece of 
maple-sugar from him,” said Lucy. 

Dick’s little blue eyes twinkled. “ Oh, Liz is 
preparing herself for Old-World ways! In Eng- 
land, you know, the gentry don’t know trades- 
people, and our own father is considered so inferior 
by some of them.” 

“ But Amelie says that her friend, the Countess 
de Beauclaire, makes a companion of good people, 


AT HOME 


13 


whether they are rich or poor. Don’t you re- 
member Amelie’s story of the countess’s carry- 
ing the basket of linen a whole mile for the sick 
young girl ? ” 

“ Just what she ought to do, if her feet didn’t 
hurt her. Aunt Susan, these shoes have shrunk, 
I believe. Can’t Liz and I have a new pair ? ” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘ Liz,’ Dick ; it’s 
so vulgar ! I’m not thinking of England at all. 
I do think that it would be very undignified for 
us to take a gift from little Jimmy Brogan.” 

“ Jimmy doesn’t steal, does be ? ” 

“ The idea, Dick ! He’s a very good boy. I 
am not talking of anything but his social position.” 

Dick doubled himself up in a paroxysm of 
affected laughter. Aunt Susan smiled in spite of 
herself, as she said, “ Dick, Dick ! ” 

Elizabeth became red in the face, and forgot to 
“ draw herself up proudly.” 

“ Oh, my ! ” said Dick, “ how aristocratic ! 
Why, only two years ago you used to play marbles 
in the front yard with Jimmy and me ! He was 
good enough then.” 

“ And if she takes Seth’s rabbit, why shouldn’t 
I take Jimmy’s sugar ? ” said Lucy. 


14 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ We’ve always been considered a first family in 
Thornydale,” said Elizabeth, “ and there must be 
classes.” 

“ But Amelie, whom you are always quoting, 
says that the ladies of the best families in Paris 
never allow others to feel themselves inferior. 
It’s not Christian ; — you’re so fond of quoting 
Amelie’s letters, why don’t you apply them ? I 
don’t think much of girls, but Amelie is a ‘ good 
sport.’ She sent me a pair of skis when she was 
in Norway.” 

“ But why,” repeated Lucy, “ should I refuse 
Jimmy’s sugar, if Elizabeth takes Seth’s rabbit ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear Lucy, she likes rabbits, but she 
doesn’t like maple-sugar ! That makes all the dif- 
ference in the world.” 

Aunt Susan settled the dispute by deciding 
against the aristocrat of the family. 


THE BLOOD OF THE MacCARTHYS 


15 


II 

THE BLOOD OF THE MacCARTHYS 

Aunt Susan was Mrs. MacCarthy’s sister. 
Mr. MacCarthy had been a widower for some 
years, and the children had been, since their 
mother’s death, in Aunt Susan’s care. They had 
lived in her quiet house in Thornydale. 

Dick and Tom were desirous of going to a 
boarding-school. But the girls feared a boarding- 
school with all their hearts. They loved Aunt 
Susan’s cheerful home too much, and each had her 
favorite Sister at St. Rita’s convent school. They 
even spoke French with Aunt Susan during one 
hour a day, for fear that she would send them 
away for “ the languages.” And they did their 
“ vocal exercises ” carefully, that the effects of 
their education might be apparent. Dick, how- 
ever, wanted to travel or to go to sea or to be sent 
to a boarding-school, with a good baseball record. 
Aunt Susan had her hands full ; but she loved the 
children dearly. 


16 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


The days at Thornydale passed pleasantly. The 
children had their troubles, of course. Tom, the 
youngest, was often “ kept in ” at school, and 
Dick sprained his arm trying to get the chestnuts 
from the topmost boughs of the trees on the Kidge. 
Until Mr. MacCarthy was obliged to go to Europe 
on business, nothing apparently important hap- 
pened. 

One day there came a letter from Aunt Kath- 
arine, in Dublin, asking that Aunt Susan let the 
children come to her for several years. 

“ It will do them good,” she wrote. “ They 
will not read so much, perhaps ; they will not 
learn so much out of books ; but they will be well 
taught, and make the acquaintances of their cousins 
here. I long so much to see them. As I cannot 
go to them, let them come to me. Dear little 
things ! — we shall be so glad to see them ! We 
can run over to France, to see Amelie, — dear 
child ! — I suppose they will miss Coney Island and 
the Yellow Stone Park in the summer, — I know 
that Americans frequently visit these places.” 

Dick laughed. 

“ Where did Aunt Katharine learn her geog- 
raphy ? ” 


THE BLOOD OF THE MacCARTHYS 17 

44 Dick ! ” said Aunt Susan, warningly. 44 4 Be 
sure to see that they have warm clothes, — I un- 
derstand that it is always hot in your country; 
and make them wear woolen mittens ’ ” 

44 She must think we are mere infants,” Dick 
cried. 44 But she’ll soon know by our appetites 
that we are no such 4 dear little things.’ ” 

44 Don’t be vulgar, Dick,” Elizabeth said. 44 As 
father says, we must go, — of course we must.” 

The day came at last when the four MacCarthy 
children wer8 to say good-bye to Thornydale. 
The trunks were packed. All the good-byes had 
been said. Nothing remained between them and 
an ocean voyage except two days in New York, 
during which they were to buy some other neces- 
sary articles recommended by their father, who 
had written to each a very careful letter of ad- 
vice. 

There were no lessons to learn, of course, on the 
evening before their departure. Twilight was 
falling. The excitement which had hitherto kept 
them almost at fever heat had gone. 

Dick took a small red note-book from his pocket, 
where many things reposed. 

44 Oh, I forget,” he said, writing rapidly. 44 It 


18 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


must be striped, and a large one, guaranteed to 
have eaten three fat babies.” 

“ Dick ! ” exclaimed Aunt Susan. 

“ I am making a careful sketch of the Broad- 
way alligator I intend to take to Aunt Katharine.” 

Then an unusual quietness and sadness stole 
over them. The great fire made the room cheer- 
ful. Lucy lighted the alcohol lamp, and prepared 
to make her Aunt Susan’s cup of tea as usual. 
Her aunt sat near the window, with her face 
turned from the children. When she spoke it was 
in a cheerful voice, but they could guess from her 
every motion that she was very sorry to lose 
them. Elizabeth was out, taking her music lesson. 
The rain had begun to come down heavily, and 
its pattering on the pane made a sort of bass to 
the treble and sharp crackling of the fire. 

“ No matter how hard it rains,” Dick said, with 
a little sigh, “ we’ll have to go to-morrow. Liv- 
erpool steamships wait for no man.” 

“ Ah, yes ! ” said Aunt Susan — “ but,” she added, 
rousing herself to a more cheerful tone, “ how will 
Elizabeth get home ? It’s raining very hard. 
Dick, you had better go after her. You’ll find 
her waterproof in the hall closet.” 


THE BLOOD OF THE MacCARTIIYS 19 

Dick began to grumble, but proceeded to button 
up his heavy woolen jacket. Suddenly Lucy ut- 
tered a scream. Aunt Susan seemed frozen ; she 
could only cry, “ A rug ! — quick ! ” 

Lucy’s jabot, Amelie’s latest gift, had caught fire 
from the flame. The fire flashed up towards her 
face. Dick caught her in his arms and pressed her 
against his rough woolen jacket. The fire was 
smothered in an instant. Aunt Susan’s hands 
trembled. “ Dear boy ! ” she could only say. 

“ Dear bear ! ” laughed Dick. 

Lucy sat, white and still. 

Dick handed Aunt Susan her cup of tea. 
“ Don’t say anything, Aunt,” he said, as Lucy be- 
gan to cry hysterically. “It’s over, — thank 
God ! ” 

Suddenly Elizabeth passed the window under a 
huge umbrella. 

“ What an umbrella ! ” cried Dick in a trembling 
voice. “ It must have come out of the ark. Why, 
a dozen people could get under it. Who lent it to 
you ? ” 

Elizabeth’s light brown hair had lost its curl, 
and bright rain-drops shone on her cheeks. 

“I should have been drenched — actually 


20 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


drenched — if it had not been for that umbrella ; 
for it did not begin to rain until I had got three 
or four blocks from Herr Brecken’s.” 

“ And who was the good Samaritan who lent 
you his family tent ? ” demanded Dick, taking a 
thick slice of bread and butter. 

“ Oh, Lucy ! What’s the matter ? ” exclaimed 
Elizabeth. “Your jabot is all burned, and, Aunt 
Susan, you’re as white as a ghost. What is the 
matter ? ” 

“ Nothing,” said Dick. “ I brought in the Polar 
Bear from Florida I’ve caught for Aunt Katharine, 
and it just hugged Lucy, — that’s all.” 

Aunt Susan made a sign of silence to Eliza- 
beth. 

“ Where did you get the wigwam ? ” asked Dick, 
abruptly. 

Elizabeth reddened a little, and took off her 
hat, unrolled her music, but she did not answer 
Dick’s question. 

“ I don’t see how you expect to eat any dinner,” 
she said, “ if you eat so much now. And there’s 
going to be ice-cream, too, in honor of our last 
dinner here.” 

“ Is there ? ” cried Dick. “ Oh, joy, oh, rapture 


THE BLOOD OF THE MacCARTHYS 


21 


unforeseen ! — But who lent you the family um- 
brella, Elizabeth ? ” 

Elizabeth reddened more than ever. 

“ Oh, Elizabeth ! ” Lucy began to cry again. 
“ Dick just saved my life. You did, Dick, you 
know you did ! ” 

“ I’ll regret it yet,” said Dick, “ if you tell.” 

“ Lucy, go up to your room,” said Aunt Susan, 
authoritatively. “You can change your blouse. 
You can tell Elizabeth what happened when you 
are more composed.” Lucy obeyed. 

“Where? — the spreading tent?” persisted 
Dick. 

“Well, I couldn’t help taking it. I was pass- 
ing Mrs. Brogan’s house, and thinking that I 
should catch my death of cold, when Jimmy Bro- 
gan ran out ” 

“ Oh, ho ! ” cried Dick. “ And you said to him : 
‘ Our social station precludes my accepting 
your ’ ” 

“ Aunt Susan, won’t you make Dick stop ? ” 

“ precludes my accepting your family heir- 
loom. And then you ‘ drew yourself up haugh- 
tily.’ ” 

“ Aunt Susan ! ” 


22 


AM ELI E IN FRANCE 


“ Stop, Dick ! ” commanded Aunt Susan. “ But, 
Elizabeth, do not talk such nonsense in the future. 
A gentlewoman should never talk of anybody’s 
being f her inferior.’ The Brogans are good, 
kind-hearted people. If you will let their quali- 
ties count for less than mere exterior things, you 
are not worthy to be your mother’s daughter, 
Elizabeth. Poor Jimmy is doing his best to help 
his mother and to make a man of himself. I’m 
afraid you’ve been taking your ideas from the 
English novels you read, my dear. Some day 
you may meet in society a clever man whom you 
will feel honored to know. Perhaps it will be 
this same Jimmy Brogan who brings our milk 
every morning before we are up, that he may 
help his mother to pay her rent.” 

“ I didn’t mean any harm, Auntie,” said Eliza- 
beth, kneeling down by her aunt and taking her 
hand. “ But Jimmy wears such ragged clothes ! ” 

“ Can he help it ? ” cried Dick. “ It makes me 
mad to hear girls talk so ! Why, that boy is the 
best pitcher in Thorny dale, and when we played 
the Star Baseball Club last spring he just made a 
three strike ! ” 

“You are always forgetting, Dick, that the 


THE BLOOD OF THE MacCARTHYS 


23 


blood of the MacCarthys flows in your veins,’’ 
retorted Elizabeth, with what she intended to be 
a “ haughty stare,” though the effect of it was 
entirely lost in the twilight. 

Dick laughed sarcastically. 

“ I don’t believe, Liz, that if anybody put you 
in a book, he could get anybody to believe you 
was real ” 

“ Were, were ! ” said Elizabeth. “ Your gram- 
mar smacks of your associates.” 

“ Smacks ! ” exclaimed Dick, wildly, rumpling 
his hair. “ If Aunt Susan would smack you occa- 
sionally, you’d come down to earth.” 

“ You must admit that good blood flows in our 
veins.” 

“Well, what if it does?” demanded Dick. 
“Wasn’t papa a ragged boy when he came to 
this country long ago ? Hasn’t he told us about 
it often enough ? Wasn’t he an orphan ? And 
didn’t he just work and work and work until he 
earned all he has ? If he hadn’t worked, I reckon 
you’d be wearing ragged clothes now, in spite of 
the blood of the MacCarthys ! ” 

The door-bell rang. It was a boy with a tele- 
gram. 


24 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


III 

THE TELEGRAM 

A telegram was not usual in the MacCarthy 
family. Aunt Susan clutched Dick’s arm, and 
asked for her smelling-salts. 

“ Oh, dear,” she said, “ I know something awful 
has happened ! ” 

Elizabeth tried to produce an attitude of sus- 
pense and fear. Lucy, naturally sympathetic, 
began to imagine all kinds of horrors. Aunt 
Susan held the yellow envelope in one hand, 
while she plied the smelling-salts with the other. 

“Just as you were about to leave with every- 
thing favorable ! ” she said. “ It is always thus, 
children ; you must never count on anything in 
this world.” 

“ Are we not going after all ? ” asked Lucy. 

“ Oh, dear Aunt ! ” cried Elizabeth, seizing her 
aunt’s hands, smelling-salts, telegram, and all, 
“ be calm — be calm ! You still have us all.” 

“ Amelie may be dead, — perhaps murdered by 


THE TELEGRAM 


25 


the French communists, who are destroying 
everything ! ” wailed Aunt Susan. “ I warned 
Amelie to come away from those French people, 
who are only relatives by marriage, after all. 
Oh, my dear Amelie ! Or it may be that some- 
thing has happened to ” 

“ But you have us all,” repeated Elizabeth. 

“ I should think so,” said Dick ; “ we’re all 
here ; so is the telegram — unopened. Why don’t 
you open it, Aunt Sue ? ” 

“ You unfeeling boy ! ” said Elizabeth. “ Have 
you no respect for your aunt’s trouble ? ” 

“When I know what it is, perhaps I shall have. 
But I don’t see why the telegraph boy should be 
kept waiting all this time.” 

Aunt Susan thrust the telegram into Dick's 
hand. Elizabeth put her hand to her heart and 
turned up her eyes. Lucy was all attention. 

Dick tore open the envelope. 

“ Berths engaged. Will you take charge of 
young Brogan ? See Father Reardon. 

Duffy.” 

“ Is that really all f ” demanded Elizabeth. 

“ That is really all” said Dick. 


26 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ What can it mean ? ” asked Aunt Susan, in 
astonishment. 

“ It means that papa’s friend, Mr. Dufly, has 
made every preparation for our voyage, and that 
he wants Aunt Susan to take charge of somebody 
going across.” 

“ Take charge of whom ? ” cried Aunt Susan, in 
alarm. 

“ I don’t know,” said Dick. “ It says, ‘ See 
Father Keardon.’ ” 

“ Dear me ! ” exclaimed Aunt Susan. “ But 
surely Mr. Duffy knows that I am not going 
across ! You are all to be in charge of the 
purser.” 

“ Of course he knows it,” Dick said ; “ he could 
not make any mistake about that. I suppose he 
means that I shall take charge of this young per- 
son. He perhaps has heard of my noble character 
in Hew York. The reputation for talent always 
drifts to Hew York ” 

“ Stop your nonsense, Dick,” Aunt Susan said ; 
“ we must consider this seriously. Perhaps you 
had better take this telegram to Father Iteardon 
at once.” 

“ Is it so urgent as that ? You people are not 


THE TELEGRAM 


27 


accustomed to telegrams. A man of the world 
like me takes them easily. Let’s feed first.” 

“ Dick, you are vulgar.” Elizabeth raised 
her head high. “ I will take this telegram 
to Father Reardon, if my recreant brother re- 
fuses.” 

“ Have common sense, Elizabeth,” said Aunt 
Susan, sharply. 

“ If we wait a while,” Dick said, looking at the 
streaming rain, “ he may drop in. He may have 
been up- town to-day. It’s his day out — Monday, 
you know.” 

“ If he does we’ll make him stay to dinner, and 
talk it all over.” 

For the next five minutes the young people 
wondered what it could all mean. The dinner 
bell tinkled. They filed into the dining-room, and 
Aunt Susan was about to say grace when the door- 
bell rang, and Father Reardon’s cheery voice was 
heard. 

“ It’s only my overcoat that’s wet,” he said, as 
Dick ran out to greet him. “ I ought not to have 
come into anybody’s house dripping in this way, 
but I’ve had a telegram.” 

“ So have we ! ” said Dick. “ And the telegram 


28 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


thought it had struck an earthquake. Our nerves 
are upset. My appetite is gone ! ” 

“ Impossible ! ” 

“ Let me take your coat, Father ; — and there’s 
a pair of slippers up-stairs in papa’s study that 
will fit you. Why, your shoes positively squash. 
You must go up at once ! ” 

Father Eeardon laughed, and obeyed. 

“ Don’t keep dinner waiting, Dick ! ” 

“ All right, Father ! ” 

Seated at the brightly lit dinner table, Father 
Eeardon was seen to be a very tall man, with 
a ruddy skin and white hair. His keen blue 
eyes seemed to hold a perpetual smile, and he 
brought sunshine wherever he came. When he 
had occasion to rebuke any of his parishioners, it 
seemed as if the sunshine were veiled by a cloud. 

“ How pleasant it seems here after the dark- 
ness and the rain outside ! Ah, my dear chil- 
dren, how happy you are ! I hope you are grate- 
ful.” 

“ Indeed we are,” said Elizabeth. 

“ And,” said Lucy, “ I’ve such nice things to 
wear, though I burned Amelie’s beautiful jabot 
to-day. I must tell you all about the fire ” 


THE TELEGRAM 


29 


“ Stop ! ” said Dick. 

“Dick was so brave ” 

“We are grateful that we have the blood of 
the MacCarthys in our veins ! ” 

Father Reardon took this seriously. “You 
ought to be thankful that you have a good father, 
Richard, and a kind aunt, and everything around 
you that can help to make a good man of you. 
This evening I saw a great contrast to this.” 
And the good priest sighed. “ I had a telegram, 
as I said. ’Twas from Mr. Duffy, of New York. 
I went at once to the Brogans, and found out 
what it all meant.” 

“ What Brogans, Father ? — the family on the 
hill ? ” asked Aunt Susan. 

“ Oh, no,” said Father Reardon ; “ they're the 
rich Brogans. It’s the poor Brogans I’m speak- 
ing of — Mrs. Brogan and Jimmy.” 

It suddenly dawned on Aunt Susan’s mind that 
Brogan was the name mentioned in the telegram. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Elizabeth, “ surely we are 
not expected to take charge of Jimmy Brogan.” 

“Why not?” asked the priest. “ It will be a 
kind act — that is, if any act that separates a boy 
from his mother can be called kind. But if 


30 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


you’ll take him it will relieve some of his mother’s 
heart-break, I’m sure.” 

“ I suppose he’ll go in the steerage,” said 
Elizabeth, in a tone of great satisfaction, “ and we 
shall not have much to do with him.” 

Father Reardon looked at Elizabeth in surprise. 

“ No ; I don’t think so ; his uncle wants him to 
travel in the most comfortable way — but I’ll tell 
you all about it after dinner. But who is this 
Amelie you’re always talking about ? ” 

“ It’s our Cousin Amelie Watson, — don’t you 
know ? She’s in France ; but she writes to us every 
week, and we try to be as good as she wants us 
to be. She sends an idea for every day in the 
week, and Dick sends her American jokes in return. 
Don’t you, Dick ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Dick. “ I want her to keep on 
loving her native land. I am a true patriot.” 


ELIZABETH AND ST. ELIZABETH 


31 


IV 

ELIZABETH AND ST. ELIZABETH 

Father Reardon, having, according to his 
custom, refused the dessert — much to the amaze- 
ment of Lucy, who could not understand how any 
human being would not eat ice-cream, — began : 

“ Well, as I said, I had a telegram from Mr. 
Duffy, asking me to see the Brogans. I went over 
there, and found Mrs. Brogan and Jimmy in the 
greatest distress. 4 Oh, Father,’ Mrs. Brogan said, 
with tears in her eyes, 4 a piece of good fortune 
has struck us, and we’re the most miserable people 
on the face of the earth ! ’ 4 That happens very 

frequently, Mrs. Brogan,’ said I ; 4 when we have 
what we want, we often find that it brings more 
sorrow than joy with it.’ 4 True enough,’ Mrs. 
Brogan said. 4 And,’ I remarked — I hope you’ll 
mind it, too, children, — 4 what we pray for and 
what God does not grant is generally what we 
ought not to have.’ ” 

Lucy blushed a little. She had been praying 


32 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


very hard for a new rain-coat although Aunt Susan 
had told her over and over again that she had 
better pray for spiritual graces. Lucy had a rain- 
coat, but it was not of the latest fashionable color, 
and her conscience reproached her for the moment, 
— but only for the moment. Lucy always asked 
for what she wanted. 

“ It seems that Mrs. Brogan has a letter from 
the old country, from Jimmy’s uncle, who is rich, 
asking for Jimmy. This uncle wants to educate 
him. He has put the funds for Jimmy’s passage 
in Mr. Duffy’s hands and he wants him at once. 
And so Mr. Duffy, — good Christian man that he 
is — thought that you might look after the boy.” 

“ Why can’t his mother look after him ? ” asked 
Aunt Susan, rather nervously. “ Of course if I 
were going it would be different, but ” 

“ Oh, I know,” answered the priest ; “ but 
Elizabeth is so wise and well conducted, that 
Jimmy’s mother trusts her entirely ; so she has no 
objection to confiding him to you.” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” Elizabeth began ; “ but I have an 
objection — I have other duties. If Jimmy Brogan 
goes, Aunt Susan must go, too. It is nice of Mrs. 
Brogan to look up to me that way ; I must say 


ELIZABETH AND ST. ELIZABETH 


33 


that she knows her place. Why cannot this Mrs. 
Brogan take charge of her own son ? ” 

“ Poor Mrs. Brogan cannot go herself. It seems 
that her husband left some debts, and she is pay- 
ing them off. Poor woman ! She and Jimmy 
have not only had to earn their living, but to put 
aside every cent that was not absolutely necessary 
to pay off these claims. Jimmy milks the four 
cows every day, and does all the chores. When 
he goes she will have to hire a boy ; but she will 
not leave Thornydale until every cent her husband 
owed is paid by her exertions.” 

“ Will not the uncle help her ? ” asked Aunt 
Susan. 

“ No ; he says very little about her. He wants 
Jimmy. And she feels that the boy ought, for his 
own good, to go. But it is like tearing her heart- 
strings out. He will be ready to start with you.” 

“Bully!” said Dick. “This is great. We’ll 
practice curves and play shuffleboard on deck. 
This is bully ! And, Elizabeth, you know that the 
thought Amelie sent us for to-day was 4 Help 
those nearest to you.’ Here’s a chance. It will 
be great fun.” 

“ I do not see why he need be tacked on to us,” 


34 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


said Elizabeth. “ Can’t he be put in charge of the 
purser ? I don’t see why we should be bothered 
with him. I think it’s a shame, Father Reardon ! ” 

Father Reardon looked bewildered. He could 
not understand what Elizabeth meant. 

“ Well,” he said, after a pause, “ I am glad little 
Jimmy will have his chance. He is industrious, 
and, please God, he may be a good priest some 
day. I suppose you’ll take him with you ? His 
uncle lives in Dublin.” 

Aunt Susan was silent. She followed her usual 
policy. She would hear the young people talk, 
and then decide. 

“ But it will be awful, Father Reardon ! ” said 
Elizabeth. “ We’ll have no pleasure at all. Just 
to think of having that Jimmy Brogan with us all 
the time ! ” 

“ He won’t be with you, Liz,” broke in Dick 
hotly. “ You’d make a saint lose his patience. 
Yes, you would.” 

“ Just because I object to having that ragged 
uncouth boy in our party ! ” 

There was a painful pause. Dick felt ashamed 
of Elizabeth. Father Reardon said gravely, after 
a time : 


ELIZABETH AND ST. ELIZABETH 35 

“ Is it Elizabeth who talks ? — Elizabeth, whose 
patron and model ought to be the august St. Eliz- 
abeth of Hungary ! Remember, my dear, that 
you are speaking of a poor child who has no 
friends, — who, separated from his mother, on his 
way to a strange land, will be doubly friendless.” 

Elizabeth flushed, and forgetting her usual dig- 
nity, looked as if she were about to cry. 

“ But, Father, just think of it ! ” she said. “ The 
Thorndykes will be on board the steamer. They’re 
such friends of ours ! And so stylish ! "What will 
they think when they see Jimmy Brogan, the 
milk-boy, running after us all the time ? ” 

“ The Thorndykes ? ” 

“ You know them very well, Father, — why, 
they’re the most important people. They have a 
beautiful touring car, with mirrors and little stoves 
in it, — electric, of course. They have everything , 
and they give the most lovely parties. What will 
Elise think of our milk-boy at the table with us ? ” 

“ I don’t care what they think ! ” said Dick. 
“ Jimmy suits me better than Alf Thorndyke. 
Why, Alf can’t send a ball straight to save his 
life ! It wouldn’t do, Elizabeth, — we can’t be 
thinking about the Thorndykes all the time.” 


36 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ Elise Thorndyke is just too refined ! ” 

“ Well, if she is. she will not object to Jimmy ; 
and if she isn’t, she can’t play on my side. That’s 
all ! ” 

“St. Elizabeth was a princess,” said Father 
Reardon, gently ; “ yet she loved the poor.” 

“ That was long ago,” said Elizabeth, “ and a 
princess could do as she pleased. I can’t.” 

“ The blood of the MacCarthys ! ” said Dick. 

“ Noblesse oblige ! ” smiled Father Reardon, 
“ which means that if you are truly noble you are 
obliged to stoop to the poor and weak.” 


ELIZABETH’S STRUGGLES 


37 


Y 

ELIZABETH’S STRUGGLES 

Aunt Susan decided that Jimmy Brogan 
should be of the party. Elizabeth was silent 
while Father Reardon remained, but as soon as 
he had gone she ran up to her room and “ burst 
into tears,” very naturally this time, and without 
any thought of the effect they might produce on 
anybody. 

It was too bad, she said to herself, that she 
should be mortified in that way before Father 
Reardon ; that this delightful trip should be so 
spoiled; that Elise Thorndyke — the refined, the 
aristocratic Elise! — should see her as a kind of 
guardian to Jimmy Brogan. “It was all very 
well for St. Elizabeth,” she repeated ; “ she could 
do as she pleased : she was a princess. If I were 
a princess I should not mind either. After all, I 
have a cousin who knows real countesses. If 
Elise Thorndyke puts on airs, I’ll just read some 
of Amelie’s letters to her. Elise hasn’t a single 


38 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


relation who goes into the society of countesses. 
It is funny that we think so much of Amelie. 
Even Dick lets her letters influence him. I con- 
fess I don’t think they tell me anything I did not 
know before, except about chateaux and count- 
esses. It is too bad there are no real princesses 
in France now, — Amelie would know them, if 
there were.” 

At this point Elizabeth went into a reverie, im- 
agining herself a princess indeed, and going 
through various thrilling adventures. But, 
while she fancied herself a princess, she could not 
imagine herself paying any special attention to 
Jimmy Brogan. She came to the conclusion 
that, after all, a princess must be a saint in order 
to be as self-sacrificing as St. Elizabeth was. 

Aunt Susan came up to say good-night. 

“ Elizabeth,” she said, gently, “ I was just a 
little ashamed of you to-night.” 

Elizabeth pouted. “ I don’t know why, Aunt.” 

“ My dear,” Aunt Susan said, “ you must re- 
member that you are not here just to please your- 
self. You have no right to consider your own 
convenience when it is a question of doing an un- 
selfish act.” 


Elizabeth’s struggles 39 

“ I hate third-rate people.” 

“ Where is your simplicity, my dear ? I have 
tried so hard to make you love simplicity.” 

“ I like to be with nice people, — people who 
have pretty clothes and pretty manners. I can’t 
help it.” 

“ That is worldiness.” 

Elizabeth began to cry. 

“ But, Aunt, why should our pleasure be spoiled 
just because our milk-boy wants to go abroad ? ” 

“ Did you hear what Father Beardon said 
about St. Elizabeth, your patroness ? Don’t you 
think you ought to imitate her a little more ? ” 

“ St. Elizabeth was a princess ; she need not 
have minded what people said.” 

“ You are named after St. Elizabeth because 
she was a saint, not because she was a princess.” 

“ I don’t see why everybody’s making such a 
fuss ! If you say so, I suppose Jimmy Brogan 
must go. But it spoils all our pleasant anticipa- 
tions of the trip.” 

“ Not at all,” Aunt Susan said, rapidly ; “ no 
one objects but you. I insist, though, that you 
be kind to this poor boy. Father Beardon says 
that he is a model of good conduct— ‘ excellency,’ 


40 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


as Dick calls it in his school jargon. Father 
Beardon says that the desire of both mother and 
son to pay off the father’s debts is most absorb- 
ing. He says that this afternoon, when he went 
there, he noticed how very poor they were, though 
everything was scrupulously neat. He says that 
they live mostly on oatmeal porridge, and that he 
is sure Jimmy looks on an occasional piece of cake 
as the height of luxury. Father Beardon told 
how tears came to his eyes when he saw how 
much the struggle to be honest costs Jimmy and 
his mother. They could live very decently if it 
were not for the hard task of paying off the 
debt that hangs over them. Father Bear- 
don’s description of their poverty was very 
touching.” 

Aunt Susan waited a while, fully expecting that 
her words would make a change in Elizabeth’s 
w T ay of thinking. But the frown on the girl’s 
forehead only deepened. 

“ You don’t understand, Aunt Susan. You talk 
as if times had not changed. When I hear you 
and papa talking of the simple ways of long ago, 
I can see more than ever that they have changed. 
People hate poverty now. They don’t like poor 


ELIZABETH’S STRUGGLES 


41 


people about them. They judge us by our clothes 
and our friends.” 

“ Where did you learn all this ? ” asked Aunt 
Susan, much pained. Elizabeth went on : 

“ I suppose he’ll eat with his knife and do all 
sorts of rude things. Dear me ! If we had time 
to write to papa, I should tell him I would not 
go.” 

Aunt Susan said nothing except “ good-night.” 
She prayed that God might make Elizabeth pre- 
fer Christian duty to her own pride and pleasure. 

In the meantime Elizabeth made up her mind 
to consult Elise Thorndyke about the matter. 
Elizabeth and Elise had recently become great 
friends, and Elizabeth felt flattered, because Elise 
wore more fashionable clothes than any other girl 
at school ; her father had the largest house in the 
place, she had spent one year in a New York 
boarding-school and she had an electric car of her 
own. Elise liked to be flattered, and Elizabeth’s 
open admiration of her was the pleasantest kind 
of flattery. Her father was so indulgent to her 
that she cultivated her faults rather than repressed 
them. It was unfortunate that Elizabeth had be- 
come so intimate with her ; Aunt Susan thought 


42 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


so, but she hoped that her niece would soon see 
for herself how hollow-hearted Elise was. And 
then there were always dear Amelie’s letters, and 
their influence ! 

The day after Father Reardon’s visit was clear 
and bright. There was nothing left to be done 
now. The farewell calls had been made, the 
trunks were strapped, so Elizabeth could very 
easily make a visit to Elise as early as she chose. 
At the same time Dick, armed with a bundle, 
stole out of the house, bent on a mysterious er- 
rand. Elizabeth saw him going out, but so intent 
was she on her plan that she did not even ask him 
whither he was going. 

Elizabeth found Elise at home. She was loung- 
ing on a sofa, with a novel in her hand. 

“ Oh, my dear I ” she said, as she arose and ar- 
ranged a pink shawl over her shoulders, “ I really 
didn’t know who it was. The servant brought no 
card, you know.” 

Elizabeth blushed. She had no cards. Per- 
haps Elise thought she was as common as Jimmy 
Brogan. She stammered something or other. 
After a time she forgot her embarrassment in her 
story. 


ELIZABETH’S STRUGGLES 


43 


Elise listened with interest. 

“ It can’t be ! ” she said. “ You really can’t as- 
sociate with such people. Your Aunt Susan is en- 
tirely too pious. I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll 
go to Mrs. Brogan, and show her how presuming 
she is to think of such a thing. These vulgar peo- 
ple need to be put down.” 

Elise ran for her hat and jacket. And, with 
some unspoken misgivings, Elizabeth started with 
her for Mrs. Brogan’s house. 

“ I’m glad to get out,” said Elise. “ I’d take 
you in my car, but something’s gone wrong with a 
tire. I’m awfully bored at home, — there’s nothing 
to do.” 

“ My Cousin Amelie in France says that in the 
best families in the country, where she lives, all the 
young noble ladies learn to make preserves, — 
compotes, you know.” 

“ Ho, I don’t know,” said Elise, “ and I don’t 
care. I suppose they’re all as poor as church 
mice, and they have to.” 


44 


AMEL1E IN FRANCE 


VI 

MRS. BROGAN 

There came a time when Elizabeth felt sorry 
for having taken this walk with Elise Thorndyke ; 
even then she had a qualm of conscience, but, 
nevertheless, she started off down the street. Peo- 
ple who passed said, “ How d’ye do, Miss Thorn- 
dyke ? ” and “ How do you do, Elizabeth ? ” Eliz- 
abeth wished people would call her “ Miss Mac- 
Carthy.” But she did not notice that when peo- 
ple said “ Elizabeth ” they smiled, and when they 
said “ Miss Thorndyke ” they said it very coldly. 

Elise held her head well in the air. She walked 
with what she considered a stately tread, and 
Elizabeth did her best to imitate her, though she 
was not pleased with her rebuff. 

“ Oh, how regal you look, Elise ! ” she could not 
forbear from exclaiming. 

“ It runs in our family,” Elise replied, with an 
air of great self-satisfaction ; “ I can’t help it.” 
And she strutted with more stiffness than ever. 


MRS. BROGAN 


45 


“It’s the latest walk in fashionable society. 
Helen Worth told me all about it in a letter, so I 
practice it. It’s the Parisian glide, — you don’t 
walk, you simply glide. I think I have caught it ; 
— it is awfully swell. See ! My skirt is so tight, 
that I must really glide. It is really very easy, 
if you practice a little.” 

Elizabeth resolved to acquire this “glide” as 
soon as she should be alone in her room. 

It was a lucky thing for their “ feelings ” that 
Dick did not see them just then. However, some 
small boys did, and they yelled. Elizabeth forgot 
the new walk. Elise, however, paid no attention 
to “ the shouts of the mob,” as Elizabeth phrased 
it in her mind. 

Mrs. Brogan’s house stood back from the main 
street. It was a neat cottage, with a well-kept, 
grassy space in front of it. At the side was an 
orchard and behind a vegetable garden. Mrs. 
Brogan’s cows were visible through the trees in 
the strip of pasture at the other side of the house. 

Elise pushed open the gate. 

“ Oh, dear,” said Elizabeth, suddenly, “ do not 
let us go in ! I think we had better not.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” said Elise. “ She’ll be flattered. 


46 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


It’s not often that people take so much notice 
of Mrs. Brogan. It will amuse, — and life is so 
stupid here. Why, nobody has time even for 
golf.” 

“ No, Elise, — perhaps we may seem to go where 
we’re not wanted.” 

Elise smiled what Elizabeth considered to be “ a 
haughty smile,” but made no reply. 

Mrs. Brogan was brightening up some milk-pans 
— which were already bright enough, — and she 
continued her work until the young girls reached 
the gravel walk. Then she smoothed her apron 
and went to meet them. 

“ Good-morning ! ” she said, in a soft, low voice. 
“Will you come in?” And she opened the door 
which led into a little sitting-room. 

It was a scrupulously neat room. The white 
curtains at the two windows were made whiter by 
the blazing red geraniums which stood against 
them. Elizabeth saw with horror that there was 
no carpet on the floor. The boards were white — 
almost as white as the curtains, — and they showed 
the effect of constant scrubbing. The walls were 
also white. They were relieved by a fine en- 
graving of the Immaculate Conception by Mu- 


MRS. BROGAN 47 

rillo, a crucifix, and a photograph of Jimmy’s 
father. 

Elizabeth felt that she was an intruder, though 
the manner of the hostess was very sweet and 
polite. She wished again that she had not come. 

Mrs. Brogan drew forth two stiff cane-seated 
chairs. The girls sat down. 

“ Perhaps I’d better call my son,” she said ; “ he 
is in the next room with a young friend ; he knows 
all about the business. I hope the milk gives sat- 
isfaction.” 

“ Sufficiently,” said Elise, in her loftiest tone. 
“ I am Miss Thorndyke.” 

Elizabeth involuntarily looked at Mrs. Brogan, 
to see what effect this announcement would have 
on her. It had none, however. The widow sat 
down on another chair and waited. 

“ I am Miss Thorndyke,” repeated Elise. 

Mrs. Brogan looked somewhat surprised, but 
merely nodded. She was a thin, little woman, 
with a sweet but care-worn expression. Her man- 
ner was simple and straightforward — a great con- 
trast to Elise’s elaborate haughtiness. 

Elizabeth waited for Mrs. Brogan to show some 
sign of humility at the mention of Elise’s name. 


48 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


She fancied she heard a giggle in the next room, 
and, blushing a little, she said : 

“ I’m Elizabeth MacCarthy, Mrs. Brogan ; and 
we’ve come — we’ve come ” 

She hesitated, with a feeling that she could 
never bring herself to explain why they had come. 
Mrs. Brogan’s face lighted up. 

“ I am glad to see you, Miss MacCarthy. Your 
great friend Father Reardon has often spoken of 
you. It’s very kind of you to offer to take charge 
of Jimmy.” 

Elizabeth felt very uncomfortable. Now was 
Elise’s opportunity. 

“ That’s what we came about, Mrs. Brogan. 
We feel that you are a very nice person, indeed 
much above your station in life ; and we think 
you will understand the motives that prompt us to 
visit you. Your son James — or Jimmy, as he is 
generally called, — is hardly an associate for Miss 
MacCarthy and myself ” 

Mrs. Brogan’s face took on a look of perplexity, 
but she listened intently. 

“ We think that your son would be much better 
among persons more, — oh, you know, — more ac- 
customed to his own ways of life. It might not 


MRS. BROGAN 


49 


be altogether agreeable for a new element to be 
mixed with a different element; — perhaps your 
son himself ” 

An expression of surprise and doubt crossed 
Mrs. Brogan’s face. She interrupted Elise : 

“ I hope Jimmy has not done anything wrong. 
I am sure he will explain ” 

“ Oh, no ! ” said Elise ; “ no doubt, for a person 
in his class of life, he fulfils every condition ; but, 
you see, he is not exactly in our set. You know 
what I mean ? It would be awkward to introduce 
him to strangers. As I am going to be of the 
traveling party myself, I should feel the incon- 
venience very much.” 

Mrs. Brogan still looked puzzled. She turned 
to Elizabeth, after a pause. 

“ I would not have Jimmy forced on you for 
the world. I thought your aunt was willing to 
have him go with you because he was alone, going 
to the same country, and a Catholic like your- 
selves.” 

“ But, you know,” answered Elise, “ that every- 
body isn’t congenial. Jimmy might find himself 
in the wrong place. If he ate with his knife, and 
did that sort of thing, — I am not saying there’s 


50 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


any harm in it, Mrs. Brogan, — oh, no ! — but, of 
course, he wouldn’t like to be at the table with 
people who do not eat with their knives. It 
would make him so uncomfortable. You must 
see it yourself.” 

Elizabeth began to feel ashamed. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Brogan ! ” she said, “ you must not 
blame Aunt Susan. We only came because we 
thought — we thought — we thought, you know, 
that Jimmy might find it pleasanter in the steerage. 
Oh, I don’t mean that ” 

Elizabeth’s faltering gaze suddenly became fixed. 
She looked as if she had seen a ghost. Out of the 
back room came Dick, followed by Jimmy Brogan 
in a new suit of clothes. 

“ She doesn’t know what she means, Mrs. Bro- 
gan. And as for that Elise Thorndyke, she’s a 
mean, stuck-up thing ! ” 

“ That certainly is the language of a gentle- 
man ! ” retorted Elise, who, to do her justice, 
never shirked a combat. “ Just because I like to 
associate with nice people, I’m called ‘ stuck-up.’ 
If I was willing to treat you as an equal, you 
wouldn’t talk that way. Do you know that you 
are addressing a lady ? ” 


MRS. BROGAN 


51 


“ Well, then, act like a lady,” said Dick, some- 
what abashed by this torrent of words. “ As for 
you, Liz, you’ve been brought up well, and I’m 
ashamed of you ! ” 


52 


AM ELI E IN FRANCE 


VII 

THE BATTLE 

Elizabeth’s first impulse was to “ draw her- 
self up haughtily ” and to “ curl her lip.” But, 
on second thought, she concluded to let Elise do 
that. But Elise did not try to do anything so im- 
posing. 

“ I don’t see how you girls can call yourselves 
Christians and talk the way you do ! ” exclaimed 
Dick, with flashing eyes. “ I didn’t suppose you 
knew better, Elise Thorndyke, but I am astonished 
at our Elizabeth.” 

“ Oh, Dick ! ” began Elizabeth. “ How can you 
speak to Elise ” 

“ Miss Thorndyke in this house, if you please,” 
said Elise, with coldness, buttoning her glove. 

“ Miss Thorndyke in that way ? Oh ! how 

can you, Dick ? ” 

“Well, I can,” said Dick, putting his arm 
through Jimmy’s. “ And I’ll not call any girl 
* Miss ’ that comes saying nasty things to people. 


THE BATTLE 


53 


Of course I am only a boy ” — here Dick stopped, 
to laugh derisively, — “and I can’t put on airs. 
And I wouldn’t if I could. Oh, no, I’m nobody ! ” 
Dick continued, in answer to an imaginary ques- 
tioner. “ I’m nobody. I don’t wear a high hat 
or carry a cane, like some people’s friends, but I 
am not a sneak, and I will not have Jimmy’s 
mother made to feel bad.” 

“ Of course, you are only a boy, and you don’t 
know the difference between elegance and vulgar- 
ity,” said Elise, in an exasperated voice. 

Elizabeth turned around suddenly and said: 
“ You know that’s not true, Elise Thorndyke ! ” 

Elise seemed stunned by this onslaught. Eliza- 
beth could not stand by and hear Dick attacked. 
But Elise recovered herself. 

“ I’m sure I only called Dick a boy.” 

“ Well, — well,” Elizabeth began, subdued in 
her turn, “ I ” 

“ Oh, you need not take my part, Elizabeth. 
You had better be sorry for what you have said 
to Mrs. Brogan. I know I am only a boy ; I 
know there are better boys than I am. Jimmy 
Brogan is one of them. But if I wanted to be a 
girl, I wouldn’t like to be one like Liz Thorndyke.” 


54 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“Come, Elizabeth,” said Elise, biting her lip. 
“ Coarse associations have corrupted your brother.” 

Elizabeth began to cry. “ Oh, Elise, believe 
me, that sort of thing does not run in our fam- 
ily ! The MacCarthys were Brehons ever since 
eleven hundred, and they’ve always been re- 
fined ” 

“ Perhaps so,” said Elise, with the air of a prin- 
cess. “ Before I go I shall say that I hope a 
young person sunk so low as to beg a suit of 
clothes from another may refrain from forcing 
himself on his social superiors.” 

Jimmy Brogan, during this conversation, re- 
mained quite still, his color coming and going, 
while Mrs. Brogan looked at the girls with an odd, 
pitying smile. 

“ Spiteful ! ” said Dick. 

“ Children ! Dick ! Dick ! ” Mrs. Brogan put 
her hand on his shoulder. 

“ I did give Jimmy Brogan that suit of clothes, 
and it’s paid for. Aunt Susan said I might.” 

“ Children,” Mrs. Brogan’s low voice broke in, 
“ I must ask you not to speak in this way. It is 
not kind. Jimmy has taken Dick’s suit of clothes 
with my consent. We are poor, as you know ; 


THE BATTLE 


55 


and though we are not poor enough to take alms, 
we are rich enough to be able to accept a kind- 
ness that comes from a good heart. I am afraid, 
after what has occurred, that I shall have to 
find some other way of sending Jimmy to his 
uncle.” 

“ A very proper resolution,” said Elise from the 
doorway. 

“ I think that my Jimmy is neither rude nor 
selfish,” said Mrs. Brogan, with a glance at 
Jimmy, who looked remarkably well in his new 
suit which had been too tight for Dick. “ And 
I know you would not have had reason to feel 
ashamed of him. But ” 

“ We shall feel ashamed of him ! ” said Elise, 
losing her temper. “ He’s all right in his own 
class. Mother won’t let servants, even the chauf- 
feur, sit in our presence. Why should we be 
forced to associate with a — milk-boy ? ” 

In spite of himself, Jimmy’s eyes filled with 
tears, and he closed his fists. If Elise Thorndyke 
were only a boy ! 

“ You’re not wanted, dear,” said Mrs. Brogan, 
sadly. “ I ought to have known it.” 

“Excuse me, Mrs. Brogan,” said Dick, hotly; 


5 G 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ but Aunt Susan and Lucy and Tom and I want 
Jimmy to go. We do not want Elise, if it comes 
to that. We’d rather have Jimmy.” 

“ I cannot endure this,” said Elise. “ Come, 
Elizabeth. Your brother is an unworthy sign of 
an unregenerate race.” 

With this remarkable speech Elise left, followed 
by Elizabeth. 

Jimmy went up to his mother and kissed her 
on the cheek. 

“ I know what you are thinking of, mother,” 
he said, tenderly. “ You are thinking that I feel 
bad, but I do not. What people say cannot hurt 
us.” 

A tear rolled down Jimmy’s cheek. 

“ It is a little hard, Jimmy — a little hard to be 
looked down on.” Dick noticed that Mrs. Brogan 
looked up at the crucifix on the wall, and then 
said more cheerfully: “Well, well, — it is all 
right, if we understand it right.” 

“ If Jimmy wasn’t a decent chap, I wouldn’t 
want him; and if he wasn’t a good one, Aunt 
Susan wouldn’t want him ; but he makes good at 
school as well as any of us. He is an American, 
and he talks American ; — he isn’t an ignoramus. 


THE BATTLE 


57 


Oh, I’m so sorry Elizabeth hurt you, Mrs. Bro- 
gan.” 

Dick clenched his fist, and continued : 

“ Oh, a nice Child of Mary Elise Thorndyke is 
— a sweet-scented one ! Oh, yes ! If Father 
Reardon does not turn her out for forcing our 
Elizabeth to make such a fool of herself, I’m 
not Dick MacCarthy. Sometimes I think that 
Elizabeth has bubbles in her dream box. As for 
Liz Thorndyke, she has an ivory knob for a head.” 

“ Do not mention it to Father Reardon,” said 
Mrs. Brogan, in alarm. “ The girls have done no 
harm.” 

“ I will ipention it to Father Reardon,” an- 
swered Dick, seeing his chance to make a bargain, 
“ unless you promise to let Jimmy go with us.” 

“ I shall see your Aunt Susan,” said Mrs. Bro- 
gan. “ But I must get to my work.” 

“ I’ll see her myself first,” Dick muttered. 

He said good-bye, and ran down the street. 


58 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


VIII 

AUNT SUSAN’S DECISION 

It must be admitted that Dick’s motives in 
taking Jimmy’s part so valiantly, and perhaps so 
offensively, were not unmixed. He liked Jimmy 
and he wanted to please Father Keardon. But, 
above all, he was resolved “ to spite Elise Thorn- 
dyke.” This spoiled much that was good in what 
otherwise would have been an impulse with which 
we could entirely sympathize. 

Elizabeth and Elise walked homeward in silence. 
Elise had a feeling that she had not come off well 
in her war of words with Dick. Elizabeth was 
sure that Elise had been too hard on Dick, though 
she could not understand how Dick could have so 
far forgotten himself as to call the elegant Elise 
by the inelegant name of “ Liz.” 

“ And all for Jimmy Brogan ! ” she broke out 
suddenly. “ I hate that boy ! ” Then she re- 
membered her compact with the absent Amelie. 
They had each agreed to never use the word 


AUNT SUSAN’S DECISION 59 

“ hate.” For the first time, Elizabeth began to 
think that Amelie’s constant good example and 
precept were a little tiresome. Jimmy Brogan 
was certainly a hateful boy, to cause so much 
mischief. “ I suppose I don’t mean that I hate 
him, — but I do dislike his ways.” 

“ Do not let us think of it,” said Elise, loftily. 
“ I am above such things — oh, dear, look at those 
caramels ! They are quite fresh, too ” — they 
were passing a shop-window. — “My dear, you 
are well enough, but you have not the Thorndyke 
repose of manner.” 

Elizabeth saw that her friend was offended. 

“ Do wait till I get some of those vanilla cara- 
mels ! ” she said, propitiatingly. 

“ Oh, do ! ” cried Elise, losing all her repose of 
manner. “ I love caramels.” 

In this way good humor was restored for a time. 

“ I hope that you have some nice clothes for 
the steamer,” said Elise, after she had testified 
in silence to the quality of the caramels. “ I’ve 
a lovely pink silk kimono and a picture hat with 
, roses and plumes.” 

“ No ! ” said Elizabeth, rather startled by this 
vision of splendor. “ Amelie, who has crossed 


60 


AMELXE IN' FRANCE 


several times, told Aunt that we should need 
only a few simple, warm things, with one nice 
frock, if I should go to the captain’s dinner.” 

“ Amelie !” said Elise, scornfully. “ I should 
think you’d be tired of her.” 

“ Good-bye,” said Elizabeth, coldly, leaving 
the box of caramels with Elise. 

Tom and Lucy heard Dick’s version of the en- 
counter at Jimmy Brogan’s with various feelings. 
Lucy was sorry for everybody. Tom was more 
indignant at Elizabeth’s conduct than Elise’s. It 
had been well talked over when Elizabeth arrived 
home. That young lady paused a while at the 
door to dispose of her last caramel, and then entered 
the house with what she said to herself was “ quiet 
dignity.” She resolved to change this for her 
manner of “ injured innocence ” if Aunt Susan 
said anything. 

Tom was a fat little fellow, with ruddy cheeks, 
very white hair, and a shy manner when he met 
strangers ; but he was likely to become almost too 
familiar on later acquaintance. Lucy was fat and 
ruddy, too; her curls were yellow, and she had 
large blue eyes ; one of them had a brown speck 
in it. 


AUNT SUSAN’S DECISION 


61 


Aunt Susan would be very much annoyed, — that 
. was evident to the youngsters. In the opinion of 
Lucy and Tom, Elizabeth must have been very 
naughty indeed. In the first place, Dick had told 
about it, and Dick never told tales. Yes, the most 
significant sign of trouble was that Dick had 
“ told.” 

Lucy danced out into the hall. 

“ Aunt Susan’s almost ready to have lunch ; she 
is waiting for you to make the coffee.” 

“ I’ll go at once,” Elizabeth said ; and then she 
added, “ Lucy, what are you looking at me that 
way for ? ” 

“ I’m not looking at you that way,” said Lucy, 
confusedly dropping her glance. 

“ Yes, you are.” 

At this moment Tom appeared in the hall. 

“ You are going to catch it, Liz ! ” he said, sym- 
pathizingly. 

“ Does Aunt Susan know ? ” asked Elizabeth, off 
her guard. 

“ No, but you’ll catch it when she does know.” 

Elizabeth “ swept” into the dining-room, en- 
countering Dick. 

“ Good-morning I ” she said elegantly. 


62 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ I think we’ve met before,” said Dick. “ Where 
was it ? Oh, yes. I f awncy I saw you with Miss 
Thorndyke. Charming young kid, — she is ! 
Tender violet ! Sweet Miss Thorndyke ! ” 

“ Oh, Dick ! ” exclaimed Lucy. “ You shall not 
speak that way to Elizabeth. We never had 
quarrels in the family before. Poor Elizabeth ! 
Dick’s naughty ! ” 

“ You keep out of this, if you please, Luce,” said 
Dick. “So I am not refined enough for Elise 
Thorndyke, am I ? ” he asked. “ I wasn’t a Brehon 
in eleven hundred and something, was I ? ” And 
then he added, feeling that this was the unkindest 
cut of all, “ I don’t believe there ever were any 
Brelions.” 

Elizabeth “ drew herself up to her full height,” 
— that is, she stood on the tips of her toes. “ I 
sometimes wonder,” she said, solemnly, “ that the 
Banshee of the MacCarthys does not strike you 
dead.” 

“ Because there is no Banshee,” said Dick. 

His sister went into the kitchen and made the 
coffee, not without misgivings as to what Aunt 
Susan would say. She felt, however, that she 
could manage her aunt, — for Aunt Susan hated 


AUNT SUSAN’S DECISION 63 

contention, and she had a habit of giving way 
rather than oppose her wishes against the tur- 
bulent demands of Elizabeth or Dick. And 
she knew that Dick would soon forget the whole 
thing; besides, she was the better talker of the 
two. 

Aunt Susan spoiled these children somewhat. 
She was too kind to them. So far they had felt 
none of the roughness of life. Elizabeth had been 
allowed to read too much, and to move about in a 
kind of dream ; and Dick, Lucy, and Tom had, as 
a rule, managed to get everything they wanted. 
It was easy for them to be generous, for they had 
never learned to be just. 

After luncheon Aunt Susan talked a while on 
the need of having everything ready for the 
journey in the morning. And then the story of 
Elizabeth’s visit came out. 

“ And did you really do this, Elizabeth ? ” asked 
Aunt Susan, leaning back in her chair, with a lit- 
tle frown on her forehead. It always came there 
when Aunt Susan was annoyed. 

“ Yes, I did, Aunt.” 

“ And did Elise dare to talk that way to poor 
Mrs. Brogan ? ” 


64 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ Dare ? ” asked Elizabeth. “ I am surprised, 
Aunt Susan, that you should use that word. Who 
is Mrs. Brogan ? Why, that horrid Jimmy has al- 
most caused a break between Elise Thorndyke 
and me.” 

“ No great harm done ! ” said Dick. 

“ Be quiet, Dick,” said his aunt sharply. Dick 
sat up straight. His aunt seldom spoke in that 
tone. “ Explain this, Elizabeth.” 

“ Elise expressed her opinion plainly. And I 
am very sure, Aunt, that Elise Thorndyke will 
not sail in the same vessel with Jimmy Brogan.” 

Aunt Susan looked at Elizabeth as if she could 
not credit the testimony of her ears ; she only ut- 
tered what was her uttermost evidence of dis- 
pleasure : 

“ Elizabeth MacCarthy ! ” 

“ Elizabeth Scholastica MacCarthy ! ” echoed 
Dick. 

“ Bichard,” said Aunt Susan, severely, “ you 
were no doubt very impudent to-day to the girls. 
People who criticize others should be careful to 
correct their own faults.” 

Aunt Susan said no more. 

Mrs. Brogan went out that afternoon to buy 


AUNT SUSAN’S DECISION 


65 


Jimmy some articles he needed for the voyage. 
Coming home, she found a note from Aunt Susan : 

“ Dear Mrs. Brogan : 

We shall start for New York at nine 
o’clock to-morrow. I shall expect Jimmy to be 
ready in time. We shall call for him with the 
carriage. Do not worry about parting from him. 
It is for his good. 

Susan Lovel.” 

Mrs. Brogan put her thin, wrinkled hands to 
her eyes. Tears trickled through them. The 
thought of letting her boy go was very hard to 
bear. 


66 


AMEL1E IN FRANCE 


IX 

THEY ARE OFF 

They started at last. Elise and Bernard 
Thorn dyke had kissed their father good-bye (they 
were going to their mother in London) and now 
they sat very stiff and well satisfied with them- 
selves in the parlor car. Elizabeth and Lucy and 
Dick and Tom were on the back platform, wav- 
ing good-byes vigorously. Jimmy Brogan, with 
his little traveling bag beside him, was in a 
corner of a seat. He was very silent. There 
was a heavy weight on his heart. He felt an im- 
pulse to jump off the platform and to run back to 
his dear mother, who, he knew, was weeping 
alone in the station. 

Hobody can gauge the inarticulate grief of a 
boy, except the boy himself. A girl helps her 
sorrow by crying ; she wants to cry. Some girls 
like to cry ; but the boy does not want to cry. 
And, when a boy is miserable, he cannot say how 
miserable he is. He must bear his wretchedness 
in silence ; but this helps to make a man of him. 


THEY ARE OFF 


67 


Alone ! Iiow heavy that word fell on his 
heart ! And how lonely she was ! The thought 
of her standing there, wrapped in her thin shawl, 
and trying to keep the tears from the sight of the 
strangers around her, seemed almost to break his 
heart. He said to himself that he could never 
smile again, — no, he could never smile again until 
he should return to that dear mother just as she 
would have him. He would learn. He would 
please his uncle. He would read every book in 
the world ! He would go back to his mother 
some day, and she would be proud of him, and 
they would both say that all this sorrow was 
worth bearing for the good it would bring. And 
this dream cheered him up. He raised his eyes 
and met Aunt Susan’s comforting glance. He 
sighed once or twice, and then he began to enjoy 
the comfort of the parlor car, and the moving 
panorama that passed the car windows. Every 
now and then, a pang would seem to run through 
his heart, and almost break it. And all of a sud- 
den, — he could not tell why, — he had to bow his 
head, and let the tears trickle through his fingers. 
How he hated himself for this ! 

A cry from Lucy and Tom called his attention 


68 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


to a huge red cow, — six times larger than life, 
which advertised some kind of malted milk. 
Jimmy looked up, and forgot his grief, as the 
strange object passed rapidly from view. 

The MacCarthys returned to their seats. And 
Elise Thorndyke and Bernard began a game of 
parchesi. Elise had made up her mind to be very 
exclusive. She was resolved that if the Mac- 
Carthys would insist on “ dragging Jimmy Bro- 
gan with them ” they should feel the conse- 
quences. Bernard was known at school as “ the 
owl.” He had a way of looking solemn that re- 
minded people of an owl. He was a quiet boy, 
with good intentions, but between his father and 
Elise he had been much spoiled. His father was 
over-indulgent, and Elise had imbued her brother 
with a very foolish spirit of pride. 

Elizabeth felt that she was in disgrace with 
Elise. She offered that exclusive person a box of 
candy ; but Elise said, “ Thank you,” and refused 
it. Jimmy was attentive to Aunt Susan: he 
brought her a glass of water, and arranged her 
bundles comfortably for her ; he noticed that the 
pages of her magazine were uncut, and taking out 
his penknife, he cut them for her. He was so 


THEY ARE OFF 


69 


polite and so kind that Aunt Susan could not for- 
bear comparing him very favorably with the ex- 
clusive Thorndykes. 

After a short period of solitary grandeur Elise 
relented, and proposed that they should all play 
dominoes. The dominoes were produced, and 
Jimmy left out of the game. Dick did not notice 
it. Bernard Thorndyke once, in the excitement 
of a moment, dared to smile at Jimmy ; but Elise 
caught his glance, and Bernard looked down in 
disgrace. 

The children gathered to the Thorndyke side of 
the car. Jimmy was forgotten. He would have 
liked to join their game ; for play was a novelty 
to him, and he enjoyed it all the more. He be- 
gan to be lonely and down-hearted again. Aunt 
Susan was interested in her books ; the children 
were lost in their game. Jimmy’s mother had 
often said to him : “ When thinking of your own 
hardships makes you gloomy, turn away from 
yourself and think of somebody else.” 

Jimmy went to the ice- water tank to divert his 
thoughts. As he came down the aisle again — if 
we can use the word aisle 1 to express a passage- 

1 Aisle means a wing — a passage on the side. 


70 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


way in the middle of anything,— he saw that an 
old gentleman with a very red face was looking 
for something under his seat. An elderly lady 
near him looked very anxious and perplexed, and 
the old gentleman evidently felt very much the 
exertion of bending down and searching for the 
lost object. 

Here was Jimmy’s chance. 

“ Can I be of use ? ” he asked of the lady. 

The old gentleman grunted rather crustily. 
But the lady said : 

“Let this boy look for the tickets, John, since 
he is so kind.” 

Jimmy was glad to have something to do. He 
asked the old lady and gentleman to move from 
their chairs for a moment. He examined the 
window sill, and suggested that they might be in- 
side the old gentleman’s hat. 

“ Some folks put them there,” said Jimmy. 

“/never do,” said the old gentleman. 

“ John ! ” remonstrated his wife. 

“ Never ! ” said the old gentleman. “ Never ! ’’ 

The old gentleman wiped his flushed face, and 
permitted Jimmy to crawl around under the va- 
rious chairs in search of his missing tickets. It 


THEY ARE OFF 


71 


was evidently a great relief to him to be saved 
the necessity of stooping. He wiped his face with 
his handkerchief and watched the kind-hearted 
boy with interest. 

“Well, Sarah,” the old gentleman said, “the 
tickets are gone, and no mistake. We’ll have to 
pay our fare again.” 

Jimmy searched carefully. But the tickets 
could not be found. The old gentleman fussed 
and fumed, and blamed everybody, until his wife 
was almost in tears. 

Jimmy thought that even the loss of the five 
dollar gold piece Father Reardon had given him 
would not cause him to be so disagreeable. And 
this five dollar gold piece was very precious to 
Jimmy. Father Reardon’s five dollar gold pieces 
were not plentiful. 

Every place seemed to have been searched 
for the missing pasteboards. Jimmy had worked 
like a Grecian building the wooden horse be- 
fore the walls of Troy. He was tired but cheer- 
ful. 

“ You have more perseverance than any boy I 
ever met,” observed the lady, gratefully. 

The old gentleman’s pockets had been turned 


72 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


inside out — everything had been done. Suddenly 
Tom, who had joined them, said : 

“ Why don’t you pray to St. Antony ? ” 

“ St. Antony ? — who’s St. Antony ? ” demanded 
the old gentleman, gruffly. 

“ St. Antony of Padua, of course,” returned 
Tom. “ I thought everybody knew him.” 

The lady smiled. “ Suppose you pray to St. 
Antony ? ” she said. 

“Well, I will,” said Tom. 

And the old gentleman, who was very courte- 
ous in spite of his bad temper, took off his hat. 
Jimmy’s quick eyes caught sight of something be- 
tween the inside band of the old gentleman’s very 
respectable silk hat. 

“ Allow me, sir,” Jimmy said — and pulled out 
the missing tickets. 

“I knew St. Antony would hear me,” Tom 
said, gravely. 

Until they reached JSTew York Jimmy and Tom 
sat with these kind people, and were treated to 
every imaginable delicacy that could be carried in 
a large bag. 


NEW YORK AT LAST ! 


73 


X 

NEW YORK AT LAST ! 

The young people were very sleepy when they 
entered the station. But the glitter of the city 
made them wide awake. A few steps into the 
street, and. suddenly a flaming meteor seemed to 
flash over their heads. 

“ Oh, look ! ” Dick cried. And even the ex- 
clusive Miss Thorndyke seemed amazed. 

It was an elevated railroad car. Elise, to make 
up for her display of astonishment, turned and 
rebuked Bernard. 

“Everybody sees you're from the country,” 
she said. “Don’t seem so surprised at every- 
thing.” 

“ I’m not surprised,” retorted Bernard. “ It’s 
you ! ” 

“ Why should I be surprised ? ” demanded Elise, 
conscious that Jimmy Brogan was near her. “I 
was here once before.” 

“ But that was when you were a baby, and fa- 
ther and mother came this way ” 


74 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Elise gave him “ one of her looks,” and froze the 
words on his lips. Dick laughed, and remarked : 

“ I say, Elise, there’s no use putting on airs in 
this crowd.” 

Elise raised her head in the air, and stepped into 
the taxi-cab with what Elizabeth would have 
called “ a haughty stride.” 

At the hotel Aunt Susan disposed of her charges 
comfortably, and sleep was not long in making 
them forget the rumbling and rolling of vehicles 
without, which strange sounds kept poor Aunt 
Susan awake and restless all night. 

The next day Aunt Susan found a little note 
for Jimmy from Mr. and Mrs. Drew, thanking 
him for his kindness to them, and enclosing a lit- 
tle volume of “The Following of Christ.” For 
the first time Jimmy learned the names of the old 
gentleman and his wife whose tickets he had 
found in the car. 

Aunt Susan became very nervous. The Oceanic 
— their steamer — was to start at two o’clock. 
Poor Aunt Susan was ready at eleven. Their 
friend in New York had taken the young people 
out to see the city, and Aunt Susan, with her 
cloak and bonnet on, waited in the deepest anxiety 


NEW YORK AT LAST! 


75 


for their return. When they did come back she 
made them bolt their lunch, and then, in spite of 
all remonstrances, tried to hurry them down to 
the pier. Nevertheless, the things she remem- 
bered and the things she forgot took up a great 
deal of time, and they were delayed by these for 
another hour at least. 

Aunt Susan was in such a flutter that she for- 
got all the precious bundles she had gathered to- 
gether. 

“Where did I leave the lemons?” she ex- 
claimed. “ If Lucy should be seasick what could 
you do without lemons ? ” 

The lemons, however, did not turn up. Aunt 
Susan was inconsolable until somebody sug- 
gested that lemons might be had on board the 
Oceanic. 

The pier was crowded with porters carrying 
baggage, florists’ boys with baskets of flowers and 
bouquets ; fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters, — 
all taking leave of people about to depart. Above 
the clamor sounded the notes of a brass band sta- 
tioned on a tugboat, which had been hired by 
some New Yorkers to escort a celebrity down the 
bay. This music quite extinguished any symp- 


76 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


toms of homesickness the young people were be- 
ginning to feel. Jimmy Brogan’s sadness was 
returning, but the gay scene around him made 
him forget it for a moment. Then the band of 
the Oceanic struck up the “ Star Spangled Ban- 
ner,” and everybody stood up. Dick felt a thrill 
run through him, as the music made him feel that 
he, too, was an American, and that he was so 
proud of it, — one with the hundreds around him 
who would die for that flag. As they went up 
the gangplank, the band played “ Dixie ” and 
everybody clapped. 

At last they were on board. 

The decks were crowded. Aunt Susan went 
below with Elise, Elizabeth, and Lucy, to look at 
their berths. Elise flatly declared that she would 
not sleep in such a little place. Why, it was no 
better than a board put up against the wall ! Be- 
sides, the sea might run in through the port-hole 
and drown her ! The stewardess had to be sent 
for, and Elise insisted on stating her objections to 
her. Couldn’t she have a larger bedroom ? she 
demanded. The stewardess smiled, and said it 
was one of the best berths on board. Elise was 
left alone, lamenting. 


NEW YORK AT LAST ! 


77 


Aunt Susan suddenly remembered that she had 
bought no steamer-chairs. Steamer-chairs are a 
necessity, she knew. She saw some for sale on 
the pier, and Jimmy volunteered to go down and 
get them for her. She hastily counted her flock 
and gave him some money. It never occurred to 
her that the deck steward would have let her 
have a dozen, hired at the usual price, if she 
wanted them. 

“ Do not forget to buy one for yourself,” she 
said. 

J immy blushed. “ I don’t think I can afford 
it,” he answered. 

“ Oh, you must buy one ! ” cried Aunt Susan. 
“ You must buy it for me, and keep it until I 
want it.” 

Jimmy, however, observed that there were 
piles of chairs on the deck, and he made a bargain 
with the steward for rented chairs, which enabled 
him to return the greater part of Aunt Susan’s 
money. This gave her a high opinion of his busi- 
ness capacity. 

Aunt Susan was hurried away by Mr. Duffy. 
She went weeping. The girls wept too. Dick 
pretended to be looking far away towards Coney 


78 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Island, and Jimmy choked when Aunt Susan 
kissed him good-bye with the rest. 

Slowly the Oceanic parted from the crowded 
pier. The band played “ Home, Sweet Home ! ” 
and our young friends suddenly realized that they 
were really going away. The purser, Mr. Rich- 
ards, stepped up to them and promised to see that 
they were made comfortable. Elizabeth could 
hardly thank him. There was a great lump in 
her throat. 

Down the great bay they glided. The pano- 
rama on each side of them was lovely. The mag- 
nificent city moved farther and farther from 
them. The wooded banks, the forts, the strips of 
sand, the summer resorts by the sea, slipped 
past. At dusk glittering lights were all they 
saw on the wide expanse of dim water. Then 
even Dick felt lonely. He would have given a 
great deal to be back at Thornydale. 

The dining-room with its glitter helped to raise 
their spirits. Tom was surprised to find himself 
seated near some people he knew. A lady tapped 
him on the arm. He turned : it was Mrs. Drew. 
She smiled at him and said : 

“ Oh, I am glad to see you !* I had no idea we 


NEW YORK AT LAST ! 


79 


should sail on the same vessel. Are you not 
afraid of the sea? And here’s the other nice 
boy ! ” she said, — Jimmy was on the other side of 
Tom. “ Aren’t you afraid of the sea ? ” 

“No,” said Jimmy. “Why should I be? 
There is not much danger now, is there ? ” 

“ There does not seem to be. The spring has 
opened, and I think that there have not been 
many icebergs on the track of our steamers so far 
this year. It is a very pleasant time to cross the 
great pond. But,” she added with a smile, “a 
boy that has such strong faith in St. Antony must 
have stronger faith in God.” 

“ I have, ma’am,” answered Jimmy. “ My 
mother has always said that we are as safe on sea 
as on land, if we are in the grace of God.” 

Mrs. Drew sighed a little. During the pause a 
voice was heard saying : 

“ It’s all very well to talk of a good time for 
crossing the ocean, but we forget the raft.” 

It was old Mr. Drew who spoke. 

“If we should happen to strike some of the 
floating logs ” 

Half a dozen voices demanded an explanation. 
And he proceeded to give it, beginning : 


80 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ I assure you that we shall be in great danger 
for some days to come ” 

There was a crash, and all except the captain 
started to their feet. 

The captain, who sat at the head of the table, 
frowned. He did not like this talk about danger 
at the dinner table. It made people nervous, and 
nervous people were the bane of his life. 

“ Are we going down ? Are we going down ? ” 
demanded Mrs. Drew. But her husband’s voice 
reassured her, although his accents were not partic- 
ularly pleasant. He spoke from the floor. The 
waiters ran to pick him up, and while they were 
about it they also picked the pieces of a goblet 
which Mr. Drew had held in his hand. Old Mr. 
Drew was in a bad humor, and his fall did not 
soften it. He took his seat at the table, and after 
a time confessed that he was looking for lemons 
when he fell. 

The captain lost patience at this, and broke out, 
impatiently : 

“ I do not see why people should always insist 
on looking for things that are before their eyes. 
If you observe the pyramid of fruit in the centre 
of the table you will see half a dozen lemons. 


NEW YORK AT LAST! 


81 


You may be sure you will always find everything 
that is necessary on a well-appointed steamer.” 

Mr. Drew grumbled out that he did not see 
any lemons, and relapsed into silence. 

The captain eyed him very stiffly. 

“ What did he mean by the raft ? ” the lady 
on the right of the captain asked, quietly. 

“ Somebody sent a huge raft, — valued at five 
hundred thousand dollars, from some port in New 
England to Norfolk, — at least, the raft, made of 
logs, cut in the Maine and Canadian woods, — 
started for Norfolk. There was an accident in 
a fearful storm, and the raft is afloat somewhere. 
It was a terrible loss, — but well insured. The 
lumber is supposed to be floating somewhere in 
the Atlantic.” 

“ Is that all ? ” said the lady. 

When dinner was over the children went on 
deck. It was a moonlight night, calm, serene. 
The crescent, slender and silver — as we see it in 
Murillo’s famous picture of the Immaculate Con- 
ception, — sent a soft light through the air, which 
was slightly hazy. 

Dick was curious about the raft. He waited 
until he saw Mr. Drew carefully wrapped in his 


82 


AMELIE I N FRANCE 


shawls and deposited in his chair on deck before 
he ventured to approach the old gentleman. 

“I wish you would tell me something about 
that raft.” 

“Don’t know anything about it,” said Mr. 
Drew, shortly. 

“ I thought you said ” 

“I don’t know anything about it, I tell you. 
I wish I did. It’s somewhere on the ocean. 
We’ll probably meet it, and then — well, we’ll 
know it then” he added, grimly. 

Dick began to feel cold chills creeping down 
his back. What could the old gentleman mean ? 

Jimmy and Bernard came over to Mr. Drew’s 
chair. The sight of Jimmy seemed to put him 
in a good humor. 

“ There’s a boy that doesn’t ask questions, so 
I’ll tell him about the raft. Sit down here,” he 
said, pushing his footstool forward. Jimmy took 
it. “ The raft is mine. It consists of over five 
hundred thousand dollars’ worth of lumber, which 
I had welded together, and which was to be towed 
to Norfolk. But, through some mischance, the 
vessel to which it was attached lost it in a storm. 
The raft is made up of huge logs. If it separates 


NEW YORK AT LAST! 


83 


and even one of those logs strikes our steamer, it 
will knock a hole through her. As it will prob- 
ably occur at night, we’ll all go down.” 

Bernard Thorndyke turned pale. But a glance 
at the calm, sparkling sea made him feel coura- 
geous. Surely nothing dreadful could happen on 
such a night ! 

Mr. Drew added, with an air of satisfaction, 
that he had been saved from a great loss by his 
prudence in heavily insuring the raft. 

“ It’s a loss to me,” continued Mr. Drew ; “ and I 
am going to Liverpool to see if I cannot hire some 
cruisers to look for it. I have already offered a 
handsome reward. The worst of it is, this is not the 
first raft I’ve lost. A bigger and more valuable one 
served me the same trick three years ago. The most 
curious thing about it is that it has never broken 
to pieces — or, at least, the pieces have never been 
sighted by any passing vessels. But, I tell you, 
boys, if we strike either of those rafts we’re gone ! ” 

Bernard shuddered. Dick began to calculate 
what amount he would deserve if he succeeded 
in finding the raft some time, and in towing it to 
shore. Jimmy thought, suppose he should never 
see his mother again ! 


84 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XI 

ANOTHER TELEGRAM 

Mr. Drew managed to make the young people 
very nervous about the rafts, and he was talking 
about the danger that would beset every vessel 
crossing their path when Mr. Richards, the purser, 
came up and gave Jimmy a yellow envelope. 

“ I am sorry that I could not give this to you 
sooner,” the purser said ; “ but it was laid on my 
desk just as the steamer was about to start, and, 
in the confusion, I did not notice it until a few 
minutes ago.” 

Jimmy thanked him, and said it did not matter. 
It was a telegram. A parting word from his 
mother, perhaps ! He did not open it ; he said to 
himself that he would wait until he should be 
alone. 

Mr. Drew went on about the rafts : “ I’d give 
twenty-five thousand dollars out of my own 
pocket this minute if either of those rafts could 
be towed to shore. I would indeed ! ” 


ANOTHER TELEGRAM 


85 


“ I fancy the steamship companies would give 
almost more,” said the purser. “The thought 
that he might run into the rafts any night has 
made many a captain anxious all the way from 
Liverpool to New York.” 

“ I wish I could find one of those rafts ! ” cried 
Dick. “ I’d be rich and have a pony and every- 
thing I want.” 

“ Don’t talk nonsense ! ” said old Mr. Drew, 
sharply. “You’re not likely to get rich in that 
way. What would you do if you were to sight 
one of my rafts first and claim and receive the 
reward, Jimmy ? ” 

“ What wouldn’t he do ? ” put in Dick. 

Jimmy said : “ I can’t tell you.” But in his 
mind he saw himself paying off his father’s debts ; 
he saw his mother on a winter afternoon knitting 
quietly in her chair, instead of cleaning the milk- 
pans with frozen fingers ; he saw himself reading 
to her, and raising his head every now and then 
to look at her pleased face. Oh, what happiness ! 

But the vision faded. He reflected that, after 
all, in a few years he would return to her, learned 
and capable of helping her. How fortunate he 
was to have an uncle who would give him this 


8G 


A MEL IE IN FRANCE 


chance! Hitherto all his thoughts had been 
gloomy, for they had been thoughts of parting. 
Now he began to think of hope — of his return, 
of the results of the chances his uncle would give 
him. 

Mr. Drew ceased to talk. Bernard yawned 
and went down to his berth. Dick and Jimmy 
wandered into a brighter part of the deck. 
Jimmy tore open the envelope ; he felt that he 
need have no secrets from Dick. The telegram 
had come to New York by cable from London. 
It ran : 

“ James Brogan, 

Steamship Oceanic , New York. 

Your uncle, Colonel J. Brogan, died yes- 
terday. Do not come. 

C. Vincent & Co., Attorneys.” 

Jimmy was stunned. Ilis castle in the air fell 
to pieces, and the horror of his position burst 
upon him. He was speeding towards England. 
There was no friend to meet him there. He had 
no money. How could he get back again to his 
mother? And when he had reached her, how 
sad it would be to have to tell her that her dreams 


ANOTHER TELEGRAM 


87 


were useless, — that there would be nothing for 
her henceforth but hard work, and no school, no 
study for him ! 

“ Oh, Dick ! ” was all he could say. No tears 
came to his eyes. He looked out towards the 
moonlit sea and saw no hope. 

“ It’s too bad ! ” cried Dick, reading the tele- 
gram. “ What a stupid man ! Why did he die 
just now ? Some people ” 

“ He couldn’t help it, Dick ; you know that I 
wish I had received this telegram before we left 
New York.” 

“There’s no use in wishing. How are you 
going to get back ? ” 

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I can work. 
They must want somebody to do something on 
this boat. I can peel potatoes ; I can wash dishes ; 
yes, I can be a stoker.” 

“ That’s all right,” said Dick, “ but how much 
money will you need ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 

Dick said nothing. He left his friend leaning 
sadly against the bulwark, and made his way 
down to the ladies’ saloon, where the girls and 
Tom were. He very impolitely interrupted Elise 


88 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Thorndyke in her long story of some fashionable 
event, and told Jimmy’s story. 

“ Now, girls,” he said, “ I move that we make 
up a purse to send him back. Aunt Susan 
gave me ten dollars, Elizabeth has as much for 
spending money ; Lucy has live, and Tom has 
five.” 

“ You can have mine ! ” cried Lucy. 

“ And mine ! ” said Tom. 

“I don’t see why you should encourage this 
young pauper to depend on people in this way,” 
said Elise. 1 1 hope Elizabeth will not be so fool- 
ish with her money.” 

“You hope she’ll buy caramels and chewing- 
gum for you, don’t you ? ” cried Dick. 

“ I never use chewing gum,” returned Elise, in 
“ freezing accents.” “ Your language is as insult- 
ing as one might expect from a confidant of low 
persons.” 

“ Oh, hear her ! ” said Dick. “ She’s been read- 
ing dime novels. I say, Elizabeth, come help the 
poor fellow out. Put in your ten dollars.” 

“ If she does she ceases to be my friend,” con- 
tinued Elise. 

“ Oh, do not say that ! ” exclaimed Elizabeth, 


ANOTHER TELEGRAM 


89 


clasping her hands. “ Dick, you cannot ask me 
to make such a sacrifice ! ” 

“ More dime novels ! ” said Dick. “ I’ll tell 
Aunt Susan. I never heard of such heartless- 
ness.” 

“Come, Elizabeth. Your brother’s rudeness 
quite frightens me.” And Elise and Elizabeth, 
their heads high in the air, “ sailed ” out of the 
saloon. 

Lucy, Tom, and Dick went up on deck — Dick 
in a state of indignation. It was shameful that 
his own sister should be so influenced by a girl 
like Elise, he said to himself. He and Lucy and 
Tom had a little conference, during which certain 
notes and silver pieces exchanged hands. 

J immy still stood near the bulwark. The moon- 
lit sea, which a short time before had made him 
feel glad at heart, now seemed to threaten him. 
He bowed his head between his hands. Mr. Drew 
passed on his way to his berth. 

“ Halloo, Jimmy ! ” he said, laughing. “ Are 
you praying to St. Antony to bring my rafts safe 
into your hands ? ” 

Jimmy tried to smile. But he took Mr. Drew’s 
hint, and prayed with all his might that the 


90 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


potent St. Antony might show him a way out of 
the darkness which, he thought, was almost too 
thick even for St. Antony to brighten. He 
prayed, nevertheless, with all his heart. 

Suddenly a soft little hand clasped his and a 
small roll was thrust into it. He turned. There 
was Lucy, her face very sweet and anxious, stand- 
ing before him. She seemed half inclined to run 
away as he turned. 

“ You are to keep that, Jimmy,” she whispered. 
“ Dick says you need it. It’s not much, but it’s 
all we have.” 

A lump rose in Jimmy’s throat. “ I can’t — I 
can’t ! Tell Dick I’ll work my way back.” 

Lucy, like a little fawn, disappeared. 


LOST 


91 


XII 

LOST 

Three days passed. Jimmy told his story to 
the purser. Mr. Drew heard it, and promised to 
see that Jimmy should be sent back to his mother. 
In the meantime Elise and Elizabeth and Bernard 
walked up and down the deck, giggling and “ tell- 
ing secrets,” as Lucy put it. Elise once asked 
Dick how his “ friend ” was, and whether all his 
“ friends ” begged for money or not. 

“ He gave it back ! ” cried Dick ; “ and I shall 
always stand by him. I wish I were as good as 
he is.” 

“ Oh, you’re birds of a feather ! ” retorted Elise. 
“ And that’s not saying much to your credit.” 

Dick avoided Elise after that. “ If I let that 
girl make me angry any more times, I’ll have an 
awful lot of sins to confess when I get to Liver- 
pool.” 

Elise enjoyed herself. She created a world 
of her own, in which she was a reigning 


92 


A MEL IE IN FRANCE 


princess, and Elizabeth a humble satellite. Eliza- 
beth was soon reduced to this position, though she 
revolted once or twice. Lucy was the pet of 
everybody on board, and Tom found some con- 
genial friends of his own age. 

“ I’ll keep away from Elise,” Dick declared. 

Jimmy approved of his resolution to keep out of 
temptation. And so the Thornydale young peo- 
ple divided themselves into two parties. Eliza- 
beth and Elise read novels, and occasionally told 
Bernard how charming and aristocratic they were 
compared to the other people on board the 
Oceanic. Bernard found it dull; but he was 
afraid of Elise, who informed everybody that the 
“ Brogan boy ” was not really of their party. 

At the end of three days everybody on board, 
except Mr. Drew, had almost forgotten the danger 
of the floating logs. The steamer rushed through 
the parting waves night and day. The trip 
would be one of the fastest on record if the speed 
was kept up. Mr. Drew spent his time waiting 
for seasickness, and eating lemons to prevent it. 
None of our young people was seasick ; Elizabeth 
had a qualm or two, but she concealed them 
bravely. 


LOST 


93 


On the fourth night of the voyage a storm 
arose. It did not last long, however. It was a 
mere hatful of wind. At dinner on the fifth day 
a shock was felt from stem to stern of the Oceanic. 
The captain said nothing when a word was 
whispered in his ear by a messenger from the 
deck ; nobody thought much about it, so cool was 
his manner. The speed of the steamer slackened ; 
it became evident that something was the matter. 
But, as there was to be a concert in the saloon, 
and the captain seemed much interested in it, there 
was no commotion among the passengers. 

The next day dawned on a quiet sea. After 
breakfast the captain asked the gentlemen to get 
together their valuables, and to prepare to take to 
the boats. 

“ There is a leak,” he said, “ which we cannot 
stop. One of my crew who was aboard the Ore- 
gon , which went down outside of Hew York, says 
that he cannot account for the blow the Oceanic has 
received — for she has evidently received a blow. 
The hole in the side of our steamer is similar to 
that which was found in the Oregon .” The cap- 
tain added that there was plenty of time ; there 
need be no hurry. And the passengers went 


94 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


away (after asking many questions) to make their 
preparations. 

In a short time everybody on board knew what 
had happened. The captain, with wise forethought, 
told the passengers just how far they were from 
land. He calculated that in five hours they 
would strike a point from which an ocean steamer 
could easily be sighted. He expressed the deep- 
est regret at having to abandon his magnificent 
ship, but set an example of hopeful resignation 
which greatly helped the passengers. 

The boats were manned in the most orderly 
manner. Mr. and Mrs. Drew insisted that Jimmy 
should go with them. But, the latter, catching 
Dick’s beseeching glance, cast his lot with the 
young people from Thornydale. Elise was not at 
all pleased at this, and she showed her feeling very 
plainly. Jimmy did not mind that. He felt that 
his strong, well-trained muscles might be of use. 
And he was right. Some of the ladies wept and 
exclaimed, but they were assured that it was pos- 
sible that their trunks would be saved if a steamer 
should pass that way. The captain promised that 
he would leave a boat’s crew on the lookout. 
Each boat was well provisioned, and after a 


LOST 


95 


luncheon, at which everybody tried to be as merry 
as possible, the boats were filled. The steamer 
during this time was settling deeper into the 
water. The word was given, and the boats went 
off in regular order. 

The sun shone brightly from a clear sky. The 
deck of the Oceanic was clean and neat, and the 
flag still waved. But, graceful and beautiful as 
she was, the hand of destruction had touched her. 
Jimmy had seen somewhere the picture of a dy- 
ing elephant in an African forest, deserted by the 
herd. He thought of it now. Farther and far- 
ther the swift oars bore them from their ocean 
home. The girls began to cry, and little Lucy 
crept close to Dick. 

“ I am afraid ! I am afraid ! ” she said. 

“ Never mind,” Dick whispered ; “ we are all 
together, and God is with us.” 

The young people, the purser, and four sailors 
were in the life-boat. There was plenty of room 
in each boat, for the Oceanic had been well pro- 
vided with all kinds of appliances, and there were 
comparatively few passengers. 

The young people soon lost their sadness, as the 
stately and lonely Oceanic grew to be a speck in 


96 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


the distance. The brisk motion and the fresh salt 
air revived their spirits. They sang and told 
stories until the twilight fell, and with the twi- 
light came the warnings of a storm. Still, the 
word was passed that in another hour land would 
be in sight. 

Darkness fell. The waves dashed higher and 
higher against the boat. The other boats could 
not be seen. Their lanterns, so visible a few mo- 
ments before, were lost in the darkness. Jimmy 
was the first to realize that they were lost in the 
unknown sea. 


THE RISING OE THE MOON 


97 


XIII 

THE RISING OF THE MOON 

Darkness was around them. All eyes were 
strained for a glimpse of the lights of the other 
boats. Mr. Richards, the purser, took out his 
whistle and blew long and loud. Nothing but the 
roar of the waves answered. Again he blew a 
shrill blast. No human response came back. 
Then he asked all in the boat to shout as loud as 
they could, and they obeyed. But the roar of the 
waves had now become so loud that no sound 
could be heard above it. 

Nobody spoke. A load fell on their hearts. 
Elise began to cry and to complain. “ Oh, why 
had she come into this boat ? Why had she not 
stayed with the captain? It was Elizabeth’s 
fault! If she had followed her own ideas she 
would have gone with the others.” Mr. Richards 
was at last obliged to tell her to keep quiet ; he 
asked the girls to cover themselves entirely with 


98 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


the tarpaulin. The sea was growing more and 
more turbulent. To the children it seemed as if 
the waves were running mountain high. Eliza- 
beth felt that her life-preserver would be no help 
if she were suddenly to be thrown into the roaring, * 
dashing sea. Looking out from under the tarpau- 
lin, the children seemed to see the dark space full 
of fierce animals, with white manes, fighting for 
their prey. 

Mr. Richards served some biscuits and jam and 
preserved beef, with cold coffee, for supper. The 
young people were hungry. The crew continued 
to row, but they made little headway, and it re- 
quired all Mr. Richards’ strength to manage the 
rudder. 

The heavy tarpaulin kept the girls from being 
drenched. The boys had their overcoats, and, in 
consequence, they did not suffer so much from the 
cold. The evening wore on ; night came, and the 
storm began to abate. 

It was hard to keep light-hearted and cheerful 
under such circumstances. Jimmy and Dick took 
their turn at the oars, which relieved the sailors a 
little. 

The rain lessened ; the wind grew less shrill ; the 


THE RISING OF THE MOON 99 

waves ceased to toss their snowy crests at the 
boat. The purser served some additional refresh- 
ments to the crew. But they all felt that, unless 
they should soon see land, there was an unendur- 
able night before them. 

Dick could not believe it possible that in the 
twinkling of an eye, a splendid steamer, like the 
Oceanic , could have been disabled, — perhaps lost. 
He had heard of the loss of the Oregon / but what 
he only read about seemed far off. Life on the 
Oceanic seemed as secure and sheltered as at 
Thornydale ; — but now, the black sky seemed to 
threaten him. 

“ I wish we could do something to cheer these 
poor fellows up,” the purser said to Jimmy Bro- 
gan. “ A fiddle would be a good thing ; but I 
don’t think Ole Bull himself could handle a bow 
in this sea.” 

“ I can sing a little,” said Jimmy. “ And 
Dick here has his mouth-organ with him, 
I know, because he always carries it in his 
pocket.” 

“ If you start something cheerful, boys, the 
crew will join in. They are very down-hearted, 
poor fellows ! We must keep up their spirits — or 


100 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


they will be wanting to pour spirits down, — the 
worst way that was ever invented of making a 
man cheerful.” 

Dick, whose heart had been like lead, revived 
somewhat at the thought of his mouth-organ. 
He drew the precious instrument from the inside 
pocket of his waistcoat and began to play “ Haney 
Lee.” Jimmy joined him, and the men gave a 
rattling chorus. The oars went faster than be- 
fore, and, in spite of the gloom and cold, all hearts 
grew warmer. 

Even Elise, whose face had been buried in her 
hands under the tarpaulin, said : 

“ Dear me, I wish I had my music ! I’d like 
to show them what singing is. I don’t believe 
they ever heard the Ricci Waltz, with all the 
trills. Oh, shall we ever see land again ! ” 

“ Haney Lee ” was good enough for the sailors. 
They made the boys repeat it. And then they 
started a sea-song of their own — something about 
“ blowing a man down,” which nobody under- 
stood but themselves. The night wore on. The 
storm passed, and just as the moon rose from be- 
hind a mass of clouds which were like hills, 
Jimmy’s clear treble voice sang out : 


THE RISING OF THE MOON 


101 


u Lord of the Sea, wlien all is gloom, 

And high the waves around us roll, 

We know thy light will some time loom, 

And that our grief thou wilt console, 

We know thy light is only hid 

Behind the lowering banks of clouds, 

And at a time — when thou shalt bid — 

Light shall shine through gloom’s trail- 
ing shrouds. 

u Star of the Sea, our thanks to thee, 

O Mother of the Deity ! 

For thou dost see thy children’s plight, 

And help them through the darksome 
night. 

Star of the Sea, we ask of thee, 

To pray unto the Deity ! ” 

And the sailors, knowing it was a hymn, joined 
in the chorus, which Jimmy repeated. And so 
the moon rose slowly over the silver sea, and 
through the silence, broken only by the short, 
chopping sound of the oars in the rowlocks, the 
words rose sweetly and solemnly : 

u Star of the Sea, our thanks to thee, 

O Mother of the Deity ! ” 

Up came the moon again. Her shield of silver 
seemed to float at the entrance of a luminous cave, 
and the white clouds below this shield were tinged 
with pale pink and faint blue. 

All eyes saw it, and all hearts felt consoled. 


102 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XIV 

THE SETTING OF THE SUN 

The day broke at last. The first streak of 
dawn in the east showed them the vast sea in slow 
and measured motion. A faint streak of pink and 
then a deep bar of red appeared. And the young 
people, seeing the outburst of splendor that fol- 
lowed it, were awestruck. It was not bright or 
cheerful as on land. No shrill crowing from 
neighbors’ barns announced the opening of a new 
day. There was no twittering of birds, no sound 
of footsteps hastening by, there was no cheerful 
voice. There was silence. It was a solemn sight. 

Mr. Eichards was provided with an alcohol 
lamp and plenty of matches. He made the stern 
of the boat into a kitchen for a moment and 
served some good hot coffee. Luckily the weather 
was not cold, and, after his passengers and crew 
had drunk the coffee, the sun shot down a shower 
of golden arrows, and the young people began to 


revive. 


THE SETTING OF THE SUN 103 

Dick, who had his hand over the side of the 
boat, suddenly pulled it up. 

“ Look,” he whispered to Jimmy ; “ does this 
mean anything ? ” 

Jimmy looked and saw in Dick’s hand a tomato 
plant with little green buttons on it. 

Jimmy’s eyes sparkled. “ It must mean land ! 
Don’t you remember how Columbus saw green 
things in the ocean when his crew were almost in 
despair ? ” 

Dick said nothing, but put his hand into the sea 
again. Jimmy followed his example on his side 
of the boat. He was rewarded by having his 
hand struck by a large piece of bark. He passed 
it to Mr. Richards. The purser examined it. His 
face flushed, but he controlled the exclamation 
that rose to his lips. 

“ Don’t be too hopeful, boys. There’s no land 
yet in sight.” 

Mr. Richards and one of the sailors were row- 
ing. Dick and Jimmy had just had their turn 
while two of the crew ate their breakfast, which 
consisted of dried beef, bread, and coffee, — all of 
much better quality than sailors usually get. 
Dick and Jimmy strained their eyes in the direc- 


104 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


tion of the western horizon. Elise Thorndyke, 
who had brought a paper-covered novel in her 
pocket, had forgotten real woes in the fictitious 
grief of some heroine or other. 

Elizabeth had no such resource. She was en- 
gaged in the more salutary process of examining 
her conscience. How often she had been dis- 
obedient to Aunt Susan ! How unkind she had 
been to Jimmy Brogan ! How careless of other 
people’s comfort ! And now she was punished. 
She should never see her dear aunt again ; never 
see her father, to whom she had written so seldom. 
Elizabeth was very wretched. If it had not been 
for the little red rosary she held in her hands she 
would have been entirely without comfort. Lucy 
was sound asleep, and Tom was listening eagerly 
to one of the sailor’s yarns about his adventures 
as a cabin-boy in the Mediterranean. 

Jimmy and Dick could hardly suppress their 
excitement. Did the tomato plant mean any- 
thing? Was it really a tomato plant, or only 
some marine plant of similar appearance ? Dick 
wished that he had studied botany at school ; in 
that case he might now be able to decide without 
doubt whether the floating plant meant land or 


THE SETTING OF THE SUN 


105 


not. Jimmy could make nothing of the piece of 
bark, nor could Dick. Although they had lived 
in the country all their lives, they could not say 
whether it was oak, sycamore, chestnut, locust, or 
beech. Dick began to understand that eyes mean 
a great deal, and that no eyes mean very little. He 
said to Jimmy that, if he ever touched land again, 
he would notice closely the little things around 
him. Jimmy had been more observant than Dick, 
but he too felt how little he had used his eyes. 

The day wore on. The boat happily had an 
awning, and at noonday it gave our boat-load 
much relief ; for the sun beat fiercely on the glit- 
tering surface of the sea. Mr. Richards fever- 
ishly watched the western horizon. As yet no 
sign of land appeared. 

Mr. Richards was more careful of the water 
and the food. Elise complained that it was very 
inconsiderate to start out in a boat without ice. 

“ You’ll be wanting grape fruit next ! ” said Dick. 

“ That’s what I do want,” replied Elise. 
“ My people will be much displeased when they 
hear what has happened.” 

“ Poor child ! ” thought Mr. Richards ; but he 
said aloud, — “ We’re very well off.” 


106 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Jimmy and Dick had managed to pick up va- 
rious bits of wood, and they had seen a dead 
pigeon borne past them. A large white bird 
swept by and was lost in the distance ahead. It 
was an albatross — a magnificent sea-bird, — the 
bird which is the centre of Coleridge’s weird 
poem, “ The Ancient Mariner.” 

In about an hour after they had seen it they 
came up to it. This time it was asleep on the 
heaving waters. It gracefully rose and fell as 
the sea swelled and subsided. Its huge white 
wings were slightly spread ; its head was half 
buried in one of them ; and its downy back was 
tinged pink by the red glow of the sun, which by 
this time was declining. It made an exquisite 
picture — so graceful, so soft, so faintly tinted with 
color, and so safe in the treacherous water. And 
then Mr. Richards, losing for a moment his anx- 
ious look, recited in a low voice the “ Rime of the 
Ancient Mariner,” showing how the sailor had 
suffered for killing one of those birds : 

“ Oh, sleep ! It is a gentle thing, 

Beloved from pole to pole. 

To Mary, Queen, the praise be given ; 

She sent the gentle sleep from heaven 
That slid into my soul ! ? ’ 


THE SETTING OF THE SUN 


107 


Just as he had reached this line, and even the 
sailors were listening attentively, he paused sud- 
denly, a strange look coming into his face. 

Jimmy followed his glance. The west was re- 
splendent. The sun, full and round, seemed to 
be upheld above a gorgeous figure attired in 
purple, gold, amber, and roseate color, flecked 
by pale green and opal. 

“ It is like a priest giving Benediction ! ” cried 
Lucy. And so it was. 

But Mr. Kichards was not looking at the sun- 
set. Believed against a luminous cloud on the 
very brink of the ocean were strange outlines. 
He pointed to them. His overstrained nerves 
gave way ; he buried his face in his hands. 

Dick and Jimmy looked at Mr. Bichards in 
astonishment. How they knew that there had 
been real danger ! 

They were in sight of land. 


108 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XY 

AMONG- THE BREAKERS 

The sun went down. The sea was smooth. 
The young people strained their eyes towards the 
west until the twilight enveloped the sea. Every 
minute seemed an hour. The sailors bent to their 
oars. On sped the boat through the gathering 
darkness. The moon arose. And, after about 
three hours of silence, hope, fear, and suspense, 
they entered the white-capped breakers which 
showed that they were near the land. Mr. Bich- 
ards, having carefully taken observations with his 
glass, had announced that they were nearing 
an island. The foam-capped waves stretched in 
a semicircle as far as the eye could see in the 
moonlight. 

The roar of the breakers sounded louder and 
louder. They fell one upon the other, filling the 
air with spray, for what seemed the space of a mile. 
This evidently gave Mr. Bichards some anxiety ; 
he consulted with the sailors in a low tone. 


AMONG THE BREAKERS 


109 


Nobody wore a life-preserver except Elizabeth ; 
she had refused to be separated from hers. 

Mr. Richards looked at her, and said gaily : 

“ You evidently knew what was going to hap- 
pen ! ” 

Elizabeth felt very proud, though she did not 
know what he meant. 

The young people said very little. They could 
only watch the stretch of high banks which was 
revealed now and then as the breakers occasion- 
ally subsided. The sailors, as the boat approached 
the first of the circle of foam-plumed waves, lay 
on their oars for a moment, in obedience to an 
order from Mr. Richards, who also told Dick and 
Jimmy to draw the tarpaulin carefully over their 
party. 

Dick objected. “We don’t mind a wetting, 
sir,” he said. 

“ You may have to go through more than a wet- 
ting, my boys, so you’d better get under cover.” 

As he said this he drew from under the stern 
seat several life-preservers, and showed the young 
people how to put them on. Elise began to cry 
as soon as she saw them. She declared that “ she 
knew she’d be drowned, — she was sure that they’d 


110 


A MEL IE IN FRANCE 


never touch land again.” Elizabeth began to 
weep, too ; and Bernard wiped the tears from his 
eyes with the back of his hand. Dick, looking at 
the towering breakers, also lost courage, but said 
nothing. Jimmy busied himself in fastening life- 
preservers under Tom’s and Lucy’s arms. Lucy 
was so much amused by her appearance in a life- 
preserver that she laughed out loud. Tom fol- 
lowed suit, and Jimmy took care to say all the 
funny things he could think of, though his heart 
was not very light. 

The amusement of Tom and Lucy did not last 
long. The boat entered the breakers. The waves 
beat heavily against it, giving quick shocks, which 
made it tremble from stem to stern. One mo- 
ment it was raised high in the air, in another it 
was dropped heavily as from a hill in to a valley. 
Sometimes it seemed suspended between the sea 
and the sky, and then entirely covered by the 
waves. But the worst was to come. 

Hitherto the boat had not filled. Mr. Bichards 
had managed his helm so well that the bow had 
pierced the breakers ; but as they neared the 
shore a huge wave struck the boat on the port 
side. It reeled, half turned over, and righted 


AMONG THE BREAKERS 


111 


itself, almost filled with water. Elise and Eliza- 
beth screamed ; Jimmy took fast hold of Lucy, 
who was nearest him, and threw off the tarpaulin. 
The night was clear ; the moon made the crests 
of the breakers seem like huge masses of pearls 
and diamonds. Jimmy wondered that things so 
beautiful could be so dangerous. 

The boat, half filled with water, had lost its 
buoyancy ; it seemed incapable of resisting the 
force of the breakers. Everybody was wet 
through. Mr. .Richards ordered two of the 
sailors to bail. Jimmy, Dick, and Tom were 
given empty cans with which to assist in the 
work. They were glad to have something to do. 

The condition of the girls was pitiable. Elise 
and Elizabeth made no attempt to be cheerful. 
They wept and wailed. Fortunately, everybody 
else was too busy to pay much attention to their 
outcries. 

Mr. Richards kept the boat well “ stern on ” to 
the sea. He knew that if a breaker should strike 
her broadside or quarter, she would capsize, lie 
had had some experience among the heavy combers 
on the coast of the Sandwich Islands. He hoped 
that he might be able to ride one of the huge 


112 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


waves without risk, for the oars were becoming 
useless. All depended now on the skill of the 
man at the helm. 

Jimmy was nearest to Mr. Eichards ; he watched 
him with interest and anxiety. They were now 
about two hundred yards from the shore. The 
breakers followed one another more rapidly. 
They struck the boat in quick succession ; but, 
thanks to Mr. Eichards’ skill, always on the stern. 
Some were stronger than others. Jimmy tried to 
discover whether there was any rule governing 
their strength. He came to the conclusion that 
one heavy wave was, as a rule, followed by two 
lighter ones. A great comber rolled over them, 
making the girls speechless with fear. Jimmy, 
according to his calculations, expected a respite. 
But it was followed by a breaker of tremendous 
strength. When it had passed, Mr. Eichards 
dropped the tiller. He tried to lift his right hand, 
but he could not. The breaker had dashed his 
arm against the stern and disabled it. He was 
pale as death. Another breaker was approaching. 
Jimmy saw the danger, and so did Dick. The 
latter was the quicker. He sprang to the helm, 
and kept the boat heading straight to the beach, 


AMONG THE BREAKERS 


113 


with the breaker well at its stern. Mr. Eichards 
shouted : “ Well done ! ” 

The dash and crash of the breakers on the 
beach made an appalling din. Dick held his place 
at the helm. There was no time to change now. 

But Elise, accustomed to her own way, and 
having never practiced self-control, cried out that 
she would not trust her life in Dick’s hands, — 
somebody else must take the helm. Before any- 
body could prevent her she stood up. Tom and 
Lucy tried to pull her back to her seat. “ No,” 
she protested ; 4 4 she could not sit still and see them 
all wrecked.” 

One of the sailors made a movement to stop her 
silly and selfish action, when another breaker 
dashed over them. And when it had gone Elise 
was not in her place. 

Jimmy could swim. He did not hesitate a 
moment. He stood up, waved his hands towards 
Dick, and plunged in after her. Dick lost con- 
trol of the helm. A breaker struck the boat full 
on its side. In a minute it was submerged. It did 
not right itself again. It appeared keel-upward, 
when the breaker had passed, and was dashed, 
empty, like a picked nutshell, on the beach. 


114 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XVI 

THE GROUP ON THE BEACH 

Jimmy’s plunge into the sea half blinded him. 
He was tossed about in noise and darkness for a 
short time. Then he felt something in his grasp. 
It was one of the oars. How he caught hold of it 
he could not tell, but he held it firm. He rose to 
the surface in a valley made by two breakers. 
One of them tossed him up on its crest. He saw 
for an instant Elise's face, very white in the 
moonlight, floating in the water. He seized her 
by the arm. 

“ Don’t be afraid,” he said. “ I ” 

A huge breaker swept her away from him 
towards the beach. Just then he heard a faint cry. 
He saw Dick, with one arm around Lucy, doing 
his best to struggle with the breakers. He thrust 
the oar towards Dick, who managed to grasp it, 
and, throwing himself on the next ingoing 
breaker, was carried to the beach. 

How Dick regretted that he had never learned 


THE GROUP ON THE BEACH 115 

to swim, as he felt himself going under, with poor 
Lucy clinging to him ! Jimmy’s oar was a god- 
send. It saved their lives. The breakers threw 
them, stunned and bruised, on the sand. 

But where was Elizabeth, where was Tom, 
where was Bernard, where was Mr. Bichards, 
where were the sailors ? 

These questions filled Jimmy’s mind to the ex- 
clusion of all other things. He cast his eyes anx- 
iously over the foam that boiled around the spot 
of sand on which he stood. His vigilance was 
rewarded. He saw Elizabeth and Tom clinging 
to another oar. Elizabeth seemed exhausted. He 
plunged into the surf again. It had no terrors for 
him when there was no one dependent on him. He 
had always been what his mother called a “ water- 
dog ” ; he rather enjoyed the lashing and whirling 
of the breakers. With his assistance the brother 
and sister were brought safely to shore, and then 
he caught Bernard’s hand just as he was going 
out of sight ; but his hand was wet, and the boy 
slipped from him. To his astonishment, Bernard, 
having disappeared for an instant, rose to the sur- 
face, and floated flat on his back between two 
breakers. Then a great comber lifted the boy up, 


116 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


and Jimmy saw him dashed into a valley and hid- 
den by spray. Then there arose a giant of a 
breaker, and Bernard was borne upon it to the 
beach. 

Jimmy caught him in his arms. 

“ I’m all right ! ” Bernard gasped. 

He saw Mr. Richards nowhere, nor was there 
any sign of the sailors. With a sigh, Jimmy 
turned to the group on the beach. They were 
wretched enough. Fortunately the night was 
warm, but they were wet through and through, 
and the girls wept and shivered. Dick seemed 
utterly helpless, and Tom could only groan and 
wish he were home. They sat huddled together 
in a group just out of reach of the waves. Jimmy 
tried in vain to arouse Dick, who seemed entirely 
crushed. 

Jimmy himself felt a sense of helplessness creep- 
ing over him. What could he do ? But he had 
been accustomed to think both for himself and 
his mother, while these other young people had 
always had somebody to think for them. He 
made his prayer to Our Lady of Good Counsel 
and looked around. Bernard stood shivering by 
his side. 


THE GROUP ON THE BEACH 


117 


“Thank God! — how did you manage to save 
yourself ? You can’t swim.” 

“ No,” Bernard’s teeth chattered, — “ but I can 
float. I was afraid at first, but I just lay back as 
if I were in bed, and let God take care of me. 
Then I wasn’t afraid, and I found that I came up 
every time after a wave had swept over me.” 

“Good, old Bernard,” said Jimmy, delighted. 

The boys saw a narrow platform of sand bor- 
dered by a wall of dark rock. In one place 
there was an opening in the rock, through which 
Jimmy saw the tracery of trees— waving boughs 
and shadows being mingled in the moonlight. 
This was all he could see. 

The condition of the miserable group before 
him suggested a fire. How was a fire to be 
made? There were trees no doubt; but how 
could they be utilized for fire- wood ? He felt 
eagerly in his waistcoat pocket, and drew out a 
match-case. He touched the spring. It flew 
open. In it lay about twenty-five matches. Were 
they wet or dry ? This was a most important 
question. His heart leaped with joy when he 
found that the inside of the tightly closed match- 
box was as dry as a chip. 


118 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“Come, Dick,” he said; “we must do some- 
thing. Let’s go look for some wood.” 

The girls cried out that they would not be left 
alone. 

“ It’s not so bad,” Jimmy continued, making a 
faint attempt to laugh. “ Robinson Crusoe came 
out all right.” 

“Heartless creature!” exclaimed Elise. “I 
shall die ! ” 

Bernard stood up. “ I’ll go, Jimmy,” he said ; 
“ anything would be better than shivering here.” 

Elise protested, but Bernard was firm. 

“Let them go,” Elizabeth said; “they may 
find poor, dear Mr. Richards.” 

“ Much good Mr. Richards will do us now ! ” 
muttered Elise. 

“ I was not thinking of us ! ” returned Eliza- 
beth, with more spirit than usual. “ I was think- 
ing of how sad it will be if we do not see Mr. 
Richards alive again.” 

“ I am freezing to death, and I have no time to 
think of other people,” Elise answered. 

Lucy volunteered to go with Jimmy, who, 
armed with his opened pocket-knife, entered the 
cleft in the rock. He found himself in a grove 


THE GROUP ON THE BEACH 


119 


of low trees and underbrush. The moonlight 
showed him numbers of slight, waving trees of 
the palm species. In a few open spaces the 
ground was thickly covered with dry leaves. 
Armed with a sharp axe, Jimmy could have cut 
as much fire-wood as he needed. He had no axe. 
The air was much warmed behind the wall of 
rock. But he knew very well that the girls 
would be afraid of snakes and wild animals, 
and never dare to leave their present place on the 
beach. 

Jimmy was not discouraged. He had never 
faced such a seemingly hopeless task before. But 
he believed that there ought always to be hope. 
There is always an opening somewhere in the 
seemingly impenetrable wall. All is dark, but 
suddenly God sends up a little star out of the 
gloomiest part of the sky. The man with the 
most hope is the man that wins the battle. In 
this case, however, hope seemed useless. Here 
were trees, but no axe. Half an ocean stretched 
between him and an axe ! 

Bernard had cautiously followed him, and, to 
get a better view, he stood on a mound of with- 
ered leaves. It gave way beneath him. Jimmy 


120 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


stooped to pick him up. His hand struck against 
something hard under the leaves ; it was part of 
the trunk of a fallen tree. It was light, fibrous ; 
it seemed cork like. 

“ Give a hand, Bernard ! ” he cried. 

In a few minutes the long log had been carried 
down to the beach. Jimmy, accompanied by 
Dick and Tom, went back to look for more logs. 
They found plenty of half-rotted boughs. These 
they piled under the log. They made a semi- 
circle of combustibles. Then Jimmy gravely 
drew out a precious match and lit the fire. The 
mass was easily ignited. A yellow flame shot up 
at once, followed by little explosions and spurts 
of green and red fire, showing the presence of 
gas in the wood. The log had no doubt lain on 
the ground for a long time. 

The grateful warmth crept into the blood of 
the young people. They were homeless; the 
morrow might bring troops of animals or savages 
upon them ; they did not know where they were ; 
but they were grateful — even Elise — for the brief 
space of comfort which the fire gave. 

All outside the fire was in the densest gloom. 
From out this gloom sounded a voice — “ Can you 


THE GROUP ON THE BEACH 


121 


help a stranger ? ” It was Mr. Richards’ voice. 
He seemed to be in pain. 

Jimmy and Dick rushed out and dragged him 
— for he was creeping on the ground — into the 
warm, bright circle. 


122 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XYII 

“ THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT ” 

The boys rushed to Mr. Richards, dragging 
him into the warmest place in the circle. He 
looked around gratefully, closed his eyes for a 
moment as if to rest, and then spoke. 

“ I never expected to see you again,” he said. 
“ My disabled arm left me entirely at the mercy 
of the waves after the boat upset. I was tossed 
and battered among them until I think I must 
have fainted. I don’t know how long I lay on 
the sand, half conscious, suffering, cold, wet, 
when suddenly I saw the light of your fire, and I 
crawled towards it. You can imagine how glad 
I am to find you.” 

“ And how glad we are ! ” cried Dick. 

“ But the sailors ! — poor fellows ! ” 

He said no more. They all understood what he 
meant. 

“I wish that I knew where we are. The 


THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT” 


123 


u 


Oceanic was so disabled that she was unmanage- 
able and drifted two days out of her course, to 
the south, before we abandoned her, — I imagine, 
though, that I can find out approximately 
where ” 

“ You must eat first,” said the boys. “ There 
are some canned things here that have been 
swept ashore. Jimmy picked them up. Among 
them was a can of condensed coffee.” 

Dick, Jimmy, Elizabeth, Tom and Lucy felt 
almost cheerful, — the coming of Mr. Richards 
seemed to mean that they were not utterly de- 
serted, after all. But Elise crouched near the 
fire, with her head buried in her arms, sobbing at 
intervals. Bernard found her example infectious. 
He turned away from Mr. Richards gloomily. 

It soon became plain that Mr. Richards was 
suffering. His usually ruddy face was pale as 
death. His hair and long beard, dripping with 
water, added to the wretchedness of his appear- 
ance. He breathed heavily. 

Elizabeth watched him anxiously. She had 
often imagined herself in some similar position. 
She had, after reading a novel, fancied herself 
ministering to the sick, of course with the appro- 


124 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


bation of a number of admiring people. She bad 
been in a great battle ; she had skilfully bound up 
the wounds of dying soldiers, and had saved 
many lives by her heroic and skilful treatment. 
But, although she saw that Mr. Richards was suf- 
fering from his injured arm, she felt herself 
powerless to help him. How she wished that, 
instead of novel-reading and dreaming, she had 
learned to be useful ! How she and Elise had 
laughed at the lessons which the Sisters had 
given on “ First help to the injured.” 

“ Elise,” she said, “ I do believe we’ve been idiots. 
We’ve never learned anything” 

“We’ve had stupid teachers, then,” said Elise, 
indignantly. “ I have always been considered a 
bright child.” 

“ Ho ; — we simply wouldn’t learn, — that’s all. 
If I ever get home, I shall not have to be forced 
to learn useful things.” 

“We shall never get home,” sobbed Elise. 

But Elise, the strong, the heroine of a hundred 
imaginary adventures ! — surely she could help Mr. 
Richards. She went to Elise and whispered to 
her. 

“ I don’t care ! ” said Elise. “ I have too much 


“through the long night” 125 

to think of to bother myself about anybody just 
now. My sealskin sack is gone ” 

“ A mermaid is probably wearing it now,” put 
in Dick, maliciously. 

“ Everything I cared for is gone ! We shall 
never get home — never ! Let Mr. Eichards take 
care of himself. Where’s your Jimmy Brogan ? 
Can’t he make himself useful ? ” 

Jimmy overheard her ; he did not quite under- 
stand. Elizabeth turned to him in shame and dis- 
tress. 

“ Oh, Jimmy ! ” she said, “ don’t you see how 
Mr. Eichards is suffering ? And I can’t help him ; 
I don’t know how.” 

Jimmy approached Mr. Eichards, and asked 
permission to look at his arm. Mr. Eichards 
smiled, but let Jimmy cut away his sleeve with a 
penknife. 

“ I don’t think you can do me much good, my 
boy,” he said ; “ but you cannot make me suffer 
much more than I am suffering now.” 

Jimmy carefully examined the arm. It was 
broken just below the elbow. The fire was burn- 
ing brightly, with a steady glow. Jimmy hesi- 
tated ; finally he said : 


126 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ I can set this arm, Mr. Bichards, I think, if 
you will let me. My arm was broken once. But- 
tercup — one of our cows — kicked me. I watched 
the doctor. And, oh, how it hurt ! If you don’t 
mind letting me try ” 

“ Try by all means,” said Mr. Bichards, with a 
groan. “ It seems to me as if my legs were 
broken too, they are so bruised and battered.” 

Jimmy looked for two flat pieces of wood. 
With Dick’s help he found tw T o shingle-like pieces. 
Then he asked for some strong muslin or linen. 
Elizabeth had plenty in her satchel, which had 
been strapped tightly around her waist when she 
entered the boat. 

When Dick saw how deftly Jimmy set about 
making his arrangements he envied him. He felt 
helpless beside him. He knew that he could read 
a little in his Latin books, and Jimmy could not. 
He had gone to dancing-school ; he had more re- 
fined manners than Jimmy. People in Thorny- 
dale had always been very polite to Dick Mac- 
Carthy ; but they had said “ only Jimmy Brogan ! ” 
Dick and Elizabeth had been invited to all the 
young folks’ parties, but nobody except Father 
Beardon had taken any interest in Jimmy. But 


“through the long night” 127 

here was Jimmy able to do things which Dick felt 
he ought to be able to do. Why was it he was 
not ? 

He asked Elizabeth this question in an under- 
tone. Elizabeth could not answer it. 

“I know!” said Tom. “You have never 
watched anything to see how it is done ; Jimmy 
has. He has used his head and his eyes, and you 
haven’t.” 

Dick admitted that there might be something in 
this ; but he said to himself that the principal 
reason was that he had failed to learn the chief 
lesson of education ; which is to apply everything 
we learn to actual life. He and Elizabeth and 
Elise and Bernard had been so intent on their own 
amusements that they had given no thought to 
anything else. 

Dick forgot his regrets in the necessity of help- 
ing Jimmy. Under Jimmy’s directions, he as- 
sisted him by suddenly pulling Mr. Eichards’ arm 
to its full length. Mr. Eichards shut his teeth 
tight, but manfully bore the ordeal. A sharp, 
snapping noise assured Jimmy that the bone had 
closed together ; he hastened at once to apply the 
rough splints and to bind them tightly — the arm 


128 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


between them — with the linen bands which Eliza- 
beth had industriously made at his request. 

Mr. Bichards was much relieved. He warmly 
thanked Jimmy. It gave him new strength to 
know that his arm was not useless for life. He 
fell asleep. Elizabeth, Lucy, and Tom followed 
his example. Bernard and the other two big boys 
took turns through the night in keeping up the 
fire. By this time, their garments were dry, but 
most uncomfortable. 

Dick kept himself awake during his watch by 
softly whistling the old Welsh air, Ayr Hyd y 
JVoSy — “ Through the Long Night.” He had 
heard it somewhere, and it seemed very appro- 
priate. Jimmy said his rosary, and Bernard was 
fairly cheerful ; he had a new sense of power ; 
he could float. Elise lay crouched in a corner. 
The only sound heard was the constant fall of the 
waves on the beach. What would the morning 
bring ? Were they to starve on this strip of sand 
and rock ? 

These questions running through Dick’s mind, 
almost maddened him. Oh, for the light ! Oh, 
for the morning ! And then, to save himself from 
thinking, he began to whistle, Ayr Hyd y Nos y — 


“through the long night” 129 

“ Through the long night, through the long 
night.” 

At last a pale light shone over the sea. It be- 
came a burning red streak ; and then the sun 
arose, a ball of fire, glorious, brilliant. The fire 
had sunk low. Its light was not needed now. 
The earth was all ablaze with the new flame, and 
a thousand rubies blazed over all the sea. 

Tom was the first to open his eyes. “ Oh, 
dear ! ” he said, with a look on his face which 
made Dick laugh in spite of himself ; “ I thought 
breakfast was ready ! ” 

With a pang Dick faced the fact that there 
could be no breakfast, except the coffee, some 
canned apricots and a bottle of preserved cherries, 
which oddly enough had escaped, uninjured, from 
the store put hastily into the boat by the 
stewardess. He made himself very unhappy 
about it. The sand, the sea, the rocks, — how 
could beefsteak and fried potatoes and hot rolls 
and coffee come out of the sea and the sand and 
the rocks ? Dick could not imagine a breakfast 
without these things. Tom became rueful enough 
when he realized the truth. Elise awoke and 
made the state of affairs worse. 


130 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ No breakfast ! If I were a boy, instead of 
being a poor, helpless girl, I’d not sit there like a 
fool ! ” she exclaimed, turning to Bernard. “ I’d 
go and find something to eat. Surely you might 
get a little fruit and find some coffee somewhere. 
There’s always coffee to be had if you know where 
to find it. Don’t tell me , stupid creature, that we 
are on a desert island! There must be some- 
thing.” 

Bernard was unable to defend himself against 
this onslaught. He hung his head gloomily. 

“Don’t talk that way, Elise. There will be 
coffee,” said Elizabeth, gently. “The boys are 
doing their best. Don’t you see you are dis- 
couraging Bernard ? ” 

“Nonsense!” cried Elise. “Who encourages 
me f Look at my clothes, dried and pickled in 
sea- water. Fm a nice looking object ! If Dick 
had not undertaken to steer we should not be here 
now, starving.” 

Dick took no notice of this unkind and untrue 
speech. Elizabeth wondered where the “ refined 
Thorndyke manner ” was now. 

“ And your Jimmy Brogan ? — where is he ? ” 
continued Elise. “ Gone, of course. I suppose he 


“through the long night” 131 

is lying under a tree somewhere, eating his break- 
fast comfortably.” 

Dick and Tom could not help laughing at the 
absurdity of this. 

At this moment Jimmy bounded into the circle. 
He drew out of his pockets a number of what 
looked like stones, and threw them into the fire. 
He laughed at the surprise of the party, saying, 
“There are plenty of clams on the beach. We 
shall not die as long as we can have roast clams.” 
“ Chowder ! ” exclaimed Lucy. 

Everybody laughed, — even Elise smiled. 


132 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XYIII 

A LESSON FOR ELISE 

It was a lovely day. Lucy said, with a sigh : 
“ ¥e can say the same prayers, anyhow, no mat- 
ter where we are.” 

Clams, raw and roasted, having a charm of 
novelty, were not disdained. After the repast the 
young people began to feel less gloomy. Jimmy’s 
spirits apparently were very high ; but his heart 
was heavy enough as he looked at the rock, sand, 
and sea, and wondered how long they could live 
on clams. 

As the sun rose higher it became necessary to 
awaken Mr. Richards, who had sunk into deep 
sleep. The sand reflected the heat ; some shelter 
must be found. The boat still lay, keel-up ward ? 
on the beach. Jimmy and Dick consulted as to 
how it could be made useful as a shelter. Elise, 
called on to give an opinion, was as helpless as 
possible. Elizabeth, who was of a dependent 


A LESSON FOR ELISE 


133 


nature, was more than usually dependent. Elise 
could not help her. Aunt Susan was at home. 
She must consult somebody. There was a little 
packet of Amelie’s letters, safe and sound in 
Elizabeth’s bag. She suddenly remembered it. 
Amelie, who was like an absent sister, might help 
her. The letters were damp, but legible. She 
opened the first that came to hand. “lam forced 
to write to my friends every week. It is part of 
my education. I must write thoughtfully, and 
say what my life teaches me every day. To-day, 
I have learned to do the thing nearest to me, and 
not to worry. I will tell you how I learned this 
when I see you.” 

“ The nearest thing to me ? ” thought Elizabeth. 
“ I must help the boys, — and not worry.” 

Elise had curled herself into a slight fissure of 
the rock, and opened a rather moist novel, which 
she had put into her bag, which, like Elizabeth’s, 
had been tightly strapped to her waist. 

It was plain that she had made up her mind to 
consider only her own comfort. Elizabeth was 
shocked by her selfishness. On shore she would have 
believed her friend the most unselfish of human 
beings. Of course she allowed a great deal for 


134 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


the fact that Elise was a Thorndyke, and Elise 
always said that “the Thorndykes had always 
had their own way from the time of William the 
Conqueror ” ; and Elizabeth had yielded the best 
of everything to her, as a matter of course. But 
Elise’s pretentions appeared in a new light at sea. 
She contrasted her with Jimmy Brogan. Amelie 
was more like Jimmy Brogan than Elise. He 
was helping and not worrying. How wise it was 
of Amelie and how kind to give her best in her 
letters to her cousins. Elizabeth saw now that 
Amelie in France was really Amelie at home, — 
her influence had been so good. Well, she would 
apply Amelie’s lesson. 

Poor Jimmy, who brought the milk every day, 
and was nobody at all at home, seemed to be much 
better here than even a Thorndyke ! He was 
cheerful and kind, and eager to help them all. 

Dick, in spite of his Latin and the fact that he 
was a MacCarthy, looked up to him. This some- 
what shocked Elizabeth. It began to dawn on 
her mind that, after all, perhaps Jimmy’s bravery 
and kindness might be worth more than all the 
Brehons and the Thorndyke ancestors. As to 
Bernard, whose nerves were the weakest in the 


A LESSON FOR ELISE 


135 


party, he clung close to Jimmy, and followed him 
about as a dog follows his master. Elise raised 
her eyes for a moment from her book to rebuke 
him. 

“ I don’t understand what you see in that boy ! ” 
Elise said. “ If I were you I’d have more proper 
pride than to take his orders.” 

“Well, we’d have had no breakfast if it had not 
been for him,” responded Bernard, hotly. 

“ It’s his business to wait on us,” responded 
Elise. “ He understands that sort of thing. Dear 
me, it is getting hot ! I wish I had an umbrella.” 

“ What do you think of your Elise now ? ” 
whispered Dick. 

Elizabeth turned her head away. Elise had 
the only sheltered position. The others were ex- 
posed to the direct rays of the sun. Jimmy was 
evidently thinking. 

Elizabeth went over to Elise, and read aloud to 
her Amelie’s strengthening words. “ Oh, bother,” 
said Elise. “I’m tired of your preaching old 
Amelie.” 

Elizabeth did not complain, but she said to her- 
self that if the sun continued to shine she must 
become blind. Her head ached. Tom and Lucy 


136 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


ran down to the beach and dipped their heads 
into the sea. They forgot the perils around them 
in “ racing with the waves,” as Dick called it. 

Jimmy and Dick consulted. Elise said : 

“ Oh, Elizabeth, you must read this book ! You 
never in all your life saw such a sweet girl as 
Elaine. She’s just too lovely ! I never cried so 
much in my life as I have since I began the chapter 
about her being lost in London.” 

And Elise wiped her eyes. 

And there was poor Mr. Richards, to whose 
head Elizabeth was holding a wet handkerchief ! 
Elise did not give a thought to him. 

“ If we had a shawl ” Jimmy began. 

“ Elise has one in her bag,” Bernard said. 

“And I intend to keep it there,” quickly re- 
sponded Elise. 

“But we could make an awning if we had 
one ” 

Elise laughed scornfully. “ If you people would 
go and find shelter in the rock, as I have done, 
you would hot need an awning. I can’t have my 
shawl used for an awning.” 

“ Oh, let her go on ! ” cried Dick. “ The more 
she shows her true character, the more I am 


A LESSON FOR ELISE 137 

pleased. It’s not likely that Elizabeth will imi- 
tate this.” 

“ Elizabeth can do as she chooses ; she has her 
old Amelie!” said Elise, loftily. “We are here 
on a desert island because you insisted on steering 
the yawl. We’re here through your fault, and 
you must take care of us. I don’t intend to be- 
come a servant girl and soil my hands or incon- 
venience myself for anybody. Elizabeth can do 
as she chooses. Whatever happens,” she said, 
with a scornful glance at Bernard, “ I shall never 
forget that I am a Thorndyke ! ” 

Dick’s eyes sparkled. Jimmy put his hand on 
his shoulder. 

“ Remember she’s a girl, Dick.” 

“ Girl or no girl,” cried Dick, “ she’s — she’s — a 
crocodile ! ” 

They laughed at this. Elise went on with her 
novel. 

Jimmy walked into the opening between the 
rock, carrying a huge stick in his hand. He found 
himself in a cooler atmosphere. 

The high rocks were draped with creepers cov- 
ered with tender green leaves. The trees were 
fairly well clothed in their early summer gar- 


138 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


ments. There were a great many of them. They 
filled a narrow space between what seemed to be 
a salt-water lake of great dimensions and the nar- 
row stretch of sand that ran along the rocks. 
Along the inner side of the rocks were numbers 
of saplings. Jimmy, remembering the tomato 
plant that had floated out to them, looked in vain 
for a patch of any growth that it might have 
come from. Did tomatoes ever grow wild ? Or 
were they always cultivated ? Jimmy felt very 
foolish to be so ignorant. He knew that there 
was a great difference between the wild straw- 
berry of the fields and the “ tame ” berry, as he 
called it, of the farms. He lived in a country of 
tomatoes ; why did he know so little about them ? 

Although the rays of the sun fell on the im- 
mense lake, the air was cool and fresh along the 
line of the rocks. In the centre of the lake he 
noticed another island. In the middle of this is- 
land, which was tinted a tender green, the sun 
struck something that gave back a dazzling bril- 
liance, as if it were a huge diamond. Jimmy 
strained his eyes. He called Dick. What was 
it ? It was one great glare. It threw back the 
sun’s light boldly. What was it ? 


A LESSON FOE ELISE 


139 


“¥e shall soon know what the light is,” said 
Dick ; “ we have the boat.” 

This thought was a great comfort to Jimmy, 
too. After all, much might be done with the boat. 

The whole party, including the reluctant Elise, 
went into the cooler air behind the rocks. It was 
quite pleasant there. The change pleased every- 
body. Jimmy alone began to worry about their 
dinner ; at least there were clams. Mr. Eichards 
was feverish, but able to sit up. 

Jimmy, having racked his brains until he had a 
headache, asked Dick to go down to the beach 
and put the boat in order. Then he spoke of his 
perplexity ; but Dick could give no help. In the 
meantime the young people near the lake won- 
dered what the great brilliant reflection on the is- 
land could mean. 

Jimmy and Dick soon righted the upturned 
boat. It was uninjured. And, to their great joy, 
wedged under the stern-seat they found several 
provision boxes, and nailed to one of the ribs the 
water keg. Mr. Eichards’ tool box was also safe 
under another seat; and scattered on the beach 
were various tin boxes and cans, for the life-boat 
had been well equipped. 


140 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Jimmy opened the tool box at once. It was 
dry enough, though some of the tools were a lit- 
tle the worse for their salt-water bath. Two 
stout fishing-lines coiled in a small, 'separate com- 
partment of the box pleased Dick. 

“But what’s the use?” he said. “We can’t 
fish. We’ve no bait.” 

Jimmy responded by picking up a clam, and 
saying, “ Why not ? Clams make good bait some- 
times. Shall we try it ? ” 

Dick and Jimmy carried the cans and boxes to 
the girls, and, arming themselves with a piece of 
flat wood each, to serve as a paddle, they pushed 
the boat down towards the surf. Jimmy baited 
his hook with a clam ; Dick followed his example. 
Then they rushed the boat into the breakers and 
jumped in. It did not take them long to get be- 
yond the foaming lines into the dark-blue calm. 
They threw the lines, weighted with bits of rock, 
into the sea. Silence; interest; anxiety. Sud- 
denly Dick cried out : 

“ You have a bite, Jimmy ! ” 

There was a strong tug at Jimmy’s line. 
Jimmy held on with both hands. He certainly 
had caught something. The line was taut. He 


A LESSON FOR ELISE 


141 


pulled with all his might. It seemed that some 
thing had caught him. The boat was pulled 
rapidly out to sea. Her bow cut streaks of foam 
from the gently moving waves. Jimmy held on 
to the side of the boat with one hand and crouched 
in the bow. 

“ Let go ! — let go ! ” cried Dick, frightened by the 
swiftness with which they were moving out to sea. 

“I can’t!” Jimmy said. “The line is 
wrapped around my waist, and it’s cutting my 
hand in two.” 

The boat whizzed through the water. Jimmy 
could hardly keep in it, and his face was drawn 
with pain. Dick saw the shore receding. He 
could make out Tom and Elizabeth, who had 
come down to the beach, raising their arms im- 
ploringly. Jimmy looked back too, and saw this. 
Did they think they were deserted ? How awful 
would be their fate if Dick and he should be 
really carried out to sea ! He groaned outright 
at the thought and with the pain of the tense line 
that was cutting into his wrist. 

“ Dick,” he cried, “ take my penknife and cut 
this line, if you want to save me from being pulled 
overboard ! ” 


142 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Dick thrust his hand into Jimmy’s pocket. In an 
instant the line was severed, and almost at the same 
instant the head of a shark appeared on the surface. 

Jimmy’s right hand was useless for the rest of 
the day. Dick tried his luck and hauled up a 
large fish, somewhat like the blue fish he knew so 
well from his trips to the Atlantic coast. 

The party ate a sumptuous repast of broiled 
fish — Elizabeth cooked it as well as she could. 
There was coffee and a can of biscuits was opened. 
Even Elise condescended to be cheerful. She had 
realized, as she saw the boat going out to sea, how 
dreadful might be her fate were the hateful 
Jimmy Brogan to leave them. It was plain that 
Jimmy was the mainstay of the party ; and that 
Dick, while a good follower, could not be de-^ 
pended on as a leader. 

As for Mr. Richards, he was too sick to move 
from his sheltered place in a kind of cave which 
Lucy and Tom had discovered. Last year’s leaves 
and dried grass were carried into it. It led to a 
series of small caves in the rock, — admirably 
adapted for sleeping places if one had nowhere 
else to sleep. “ And,” as Tom said, “ the hotel 
was some distance away.” 


A LESSON FOR ELISE 


143 


Elise’s suggestions were unnoticed by the young 
people, while Jimmy’s — always sensible — were re- 
ceived with attention. Elise for the first time in 
her life began to feel that there was something 
which could command more respect than social 
position and riches. There was a world outside 
of Thorny dale, and she was discovering it. 


1U 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XIX 

A BIT OF GLASS 

Two days passed. Fish, and the preserved 
meat and vegetables, the young people found in 
the cans, gave them food. A turtle was seen cast 
up on its back out of the lake ; but if Jimmy had 
not showed the girls how to make soup of it, it 
would have been entirely wasted. Elise disdained 
to touch the “ brute,” as she called it, with her 
fair hands ; she said that she intended to spend all 
her time on the island in cultivating her mind, so 
she buried herself in her novel — “ Elaine’s Love ; 
or, The Duke’s Vengeance. ” 

Elizabeth had not learned to cook, — in fact, 
she knew nothing useful; and when she saw 
Jimmy cutting up the turtle, and preparing to 
boil it in one of the large cans, she was heartily 
ashamed of herself, and hung her head. Then 
she raised it, and said to Jimmy : 

“ I wish you would teach me to cook ! Aunt 
Susan never taught me.” 


A BIT OF GLASS 


145 


“ I’m sure,” said Jimmy, willing to defend his 
friend, Aunt Susan, “ that, like most girls, you 
hated cooking. I’m sure Elise Thorndyke does. 
I had to help my mother.” 

Elizabeth blushed. 

“ I should like to learn ; please teach me.” 

It was hard to ask any favor of the boy whom 
she had treated so shabbily. 

“ Of course I will,” said Jimmy, cheerfully. “ I 
had to do it when my mother was sick. Every 
girl ought to be able to cook.” 

“You mean every girl in your class of life,” 
called out Elise. “ But I don’t see why young 
ladies in ours should soil their hands.” 

“ You’ll see that soon enough, if anything should 
happen to Jimmy,” said Dick, who was chopping 
some wood with the carpenter’s axe which he had 
taken from the tool chest. “ It is time that Elise 
stopped her nonsense. Jimmy is the best man 
among us.” 

“I’d be ashamed to acknowledge it, if I were 
you ! ” said Elise, closing her book and preparing 
for battle. 

“Elise,” — Elizabeth found it hard to speak,— 
“ don’t you see that we’ve been living in a little, 


146 


AMELIE IN FEANCE 


foolish world, made by ourselves ? This is real 
life, and we must face it. It was all very well to 
play at ancestors and fashion and all that, when 
we had nothing else to do, — or thought we 
hadn’t ; but now ” 

“We’re all up against real life!” Dick said, 
seriously. “ Jimmy is teaching us that.” 

“ You’re silly to say so ! ” retorted Elise. 

“ I am not. I would be proud to be more like 
him. And if I ever get home again I’ll try to be 
more like him. What I want to say now is that 
the time has come for us to divide the labor. It’s 
a shame to have Jimmy doing all the work, — a 
downright shame, and I’ll not stand it ! ” 

Elise looked sulky, but made no answer. Dick 
went on : 

“Jimmy was awake until after midnight. 
What was he doing ? Why, studying my little 
Latin lexicon. He wants to know Latin, and I 
am going to teach him when he has time. But 
with cooking, fishing, and planning, and trying to 
make us all comfortable, he has no time for im- 
proving his mind, though he does not want to 
read novels.” 

“ If Jimmy will teach me, I’ll do the cooking,” 


A BIT OF GLASS 147 

said Elizabeth. “ I agree with all that Dick 
says.” 

Jimmy came up at this moment, carrying some- 
thing in both hands. 

“ Eggs,” he said, “ real hens’ eggs.” 

“ We shall have an omelet ! ” exclaimed Elise. 

“ I can’t make an omelet,” said Jimmy, dolefully. 

“ There’s a good recipe in one of Amelie’s 
letters. I’ll find it, — I wish that you would teach 
me to cook, — that is — what you know.” 

It cost Elizabeth some effort to say this. She 
knew that Elise was listening. And she was still 
afraid of Elise. 

“ And what am I expected to do ? ” demanded 
Elise, with a smile of toleration for the antics of 
her inferiors. 

“ Nothing,” said Dick, gravely ; “ because it’s 
all you can do.” 

This made her angry, but she was silent. It 
suddenly dawned on her that everybody around 
her looked on her as a drone. Even Mr. Richards, 
who lay in one of the caves, trying to sew together 
some bags which were to form part of a tent, did 
not defend her. She threw down her novel and 
walked away with what in other days Elizabeth 


148 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


would have called a “ queenly ” step. She went 
towards the lake. The sun’s rays fell full on the 
island, and were reflected in silvery lustre from 
the bright things upon it. She observed a 
glittering object at her feet. She picked it up. * 
It was a small pane of glass framed in wood. 
It did not strike her that it was strange it should 
be there : she saw in it a possible looking-glass. 

Elise, in her own mind, was a beautiful creature. 
She had always been well dressed, and that had 
added much to her high opinion of herself. She 
and Elizabeth had lived in a dreamland in which 
they were princesses. But now one look in the 
very imperfect mirror permitted her to see herself 
as others saw her: her face was browned and 
freckled ; her hair, combed back, revealed a fore- 
head reddened to the color of brick-dust by the 
sun. Certainly there was nothing “ distinguished” 
about her now. She could not believe her eyes. 
The mirror was very poor ; she could hardly make 
out her face in it at all, but what she saw was 
enough. She sat on the sand and cried — in earnest 
this time. 

“ I believe,” she said, — “ I believe I am no better 
than anybody else ! ” 


A BIT OF GLASS 


149 


Tears of wounded vanity ran down her cheeks. 
Scolding, reproaches, entreaties had been wasted 
on her by her good teachers ; but the lesson taught 
her by that bit of broken glass was most effectual. 
When her tears dried, she was desolate. Nobody 
loved her. Jimmy Brogan must detest her. She 
was sure that Dick hated her. And her own 
people were far away. Elizabeth was too busy to 
pay much attention to her. She was alone, — alone, 
— left out of everything. And with privation 
and hard work staring her in the face. She must 
not be thrust aside in this way. She would make 
them like her. 

“ Here nobody cares who you are or who you 
know ! ” she sobbed. “ I’m just a plain person 
here.” 

When she returned to the little camp she saw 
Elizabeth industriously stirring the soup. Before 
they left the ship, cups and spoons had been put 
away in Elizabeth’s satchel ; Elise went up to her 
meekly and asked if she might have them to 
wash. 

Dick gave a long, low whistle, Lucy giggled, 
and Tom’s eyes became round as saucers. Jimmy 
alone spared Elise mortification by asking her 


150 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


cheerfully if she would help him to untwist a 
piece of rope ; for he was trying to mend a broken 
paddle. Elise complied very meekly. She could 
not get rid of the picture of herself in her rumpled 
clothes. How could she be so ugly! Well, she 
must work and forget it. She could not imagine 
herself to be the beautiful Elaine of the novel 
now. 

The omelet turned out fairly well. Jimmy 
had made a frying-pan from the bottom of one of 
the larger cans. 

“But the hens’ eggs,” asked Mr. Richards, 
“ where did they come from ? ” 

“ Oh, I just found them, — there are several 
nests and a lot of little chickens under the bushes 
down near the shore.” 

Mr. Richards was interested. “ But hens are 
not wild birds ; — there must be some civilized peo- 
ple about.” 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ These chickens have escaped from civilization. 
They cannot have flown. Cocks and hens don’t 
swim. These civilized fowls must have escaped 
from some place near.” 

“ They’re barred Plymouth Rocks,” said Jimmy, 


A BIT OF GLASS 


151 


“ and it’s like a barn-yard down there. We’re sure 
of as many eggs as we can eat.” 

“ Thank heaven ! ” said Mr. Bichards. “ As 
soon as the inflammation in this hand goes down, 
we’ll explore.” 

Elizabeth’s heart grew lighter as she noticed 
Elise’s subdued manner. And that night, for the 
first time, they said the rosary together, — Mr. 
Bichards, though not a Catholic, joining in it. 

The weather still kept clear. The boys, having 
made a serviceable pair of paddles, resolved to ex- 
plore the island ; so Jimmy, Dick, Bernard, and 
Tom started off early in the morning, leaving 
Mr. Bichards to take care of the girls. 

It was not a long pull to the island. They 
armed themselves with the hatchets, the axe, and 
stout clubs. But they had no need of these. The 
island was small, covered with a soft, green grass, 
among which grew plants with white, star-like 
flowers. Tom made up his mind to take a bouquet 
home to Lucy. But just now there was no time 
for gathering flowers. 

“ What are these flowers ? ” asked Jimmy. 

“ Don’t know,” said Dick. 

“ Tulips,” put in Tom, confidently. 


152 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Dick laughed. 

“ Stupid ! ” 

“ I don’t think that Tom is more stupid for call- 
ing the hepatica a tulip than you are for not 
knowing the name of a common spring flower,” 
said Jimmy. 

“ Right you are,” said Dick. “ As soon as I 
get a chance I’ll learn all about plants. Jimmy 
says that, after a time, we’ll have to use milk- 
weed for asparagus and dandelions for salad.” 

“ I don’t know one from the other.” 

“ If milkweed and dandelions grow in this cli- 
mate ! We’ll find out.” 

When they reached the centre of the island 
they found the most astonishing thing. Before 
them stretched at least two acres of hotbeds cov- 
ered with glass ! This had reflected the sun’s 
rays. Beyond was a greenhouse, through the 
panes of which they could see waving leaves. 
Dick rubbed his eyes. Jimmy stood stock-still. 

“ What do you think of it ? ” asked Dick. 

“I can’t think anything,” said Jimmy. “It’s 
too sudden.” 

Cautiously they approached the plant-houses. 
They saw young potato and tomato plants. 


A BIT OF GLASS 


153 


“ Somebody lives here, evidently,” said Dick. 
“ Why, there is a little hut ! ” 

It was a small house made of planks, after the 
manner of a log cabin. The boys walked up the 
narrow, shell-bordered path which led to it. 
Jimmy knocked at the door, as the rest held 
back. 

“ Come in ! ” said a deep voice. 4 4 1 expected 
you’d come some time. I know you’ll rob me, but 
you’ll not find much.” 

The boys opened the door. Inside the hut, 
stretched on a camp-bed, was an old man dressed 
in blue flannel, with a red-tinted face, white hair, 
and kindly blue eyes. He had a wooden leg. 
His right hand clasped a crutch, which he seemed 
ready to use for the purpose of defence, if neces- 
sary. 

Jimmy looked him straight in the eyes, and 
made up his mind that this inhabitant of the 
island might be trusted. He advanced. The old 
man held out his hand. 

44 1 thought you’d be coming over. I noticed 
your fire and the smoke, and a man that seemed to 
be sick ; I saw him through my glass, though I 
couldn’t move.” 


154 


AM EL IE IN FRANCE 


“ Yes, we have a sick man. Jimmy here set 
his arm. It was broken below the elbow,” said 
Dick. 

“ He must be a very smart boy, then,” answered 
the man, looking inquisitively at Jimmy. “ There 
are two bones in the forearm, and I don’t think 
that anybody but an experienced surgeon could 
set them.” 

“There was only one broken,” said Jimmy, 
modestly. “ It was the ulna, — I think that is the 
name I heard it called by when I was sick in the 
hospital at Thorny dale.” 

The old man nodded his head approvingly. 

“ You’ve a good memory. I was once a nurse 
in a hospital myself, and I know a great deal 
about such things. But I’ve rheumatism now, 
and I can hardly get about to water my plants.” 

“ Are we near home ? ” cried Tom, eagerly. 
“ Shall we have to stay here all our lives ? ” 

“ This is my home,” said the old man. “ I 
don’t know where yours is.” 

Dick told him, and also about the wreck. 

“ Poor children ! ” said the old man. “ You can 
come over here and help me. This is one of the 
pleasantest spots on earth. The winds hardly ever 


A BIT OF GLASS 


155 


penetrate my thick walls of rock. And the spring 
comes sooner here. In a few weeks I shall have 
a great crop of early vegetables. There’s another 
hut near this — see ! ” 

The boys noticed a little house, larger than the 
one occupied by their new acquaintance, some- 
what behind his. 

“ My helper used to live there ; but he went to 
Liverpool to see his friends, and the house will be 
empty for some months. The girls of your party 
can have it until he comes back, and you fellows 
can stay with me. But you’ll have to help me.” 

“ But shall we ever get home ? ” 

“ Certainly. Why not ? ” 

The boys were stunned by the coolness of this 
answer. 

“This is a coaling station for steamers, and 
their captains buy my vegetables, and are glad to 
get them. Of course you can get home.” 

Jimmy and Dick clasped each other’s hands. 

“ Thank God and His Blessed Mother ! ” they 
said, almost with one voice. 


156 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


XX 

A PORTENTOUS HINT 

The boys very cheerfully obeyed the old sailor’s 
direction, and rowed back for Mr. Kichards, Elise, 
Elizabeth, and Lucy. You can imagine their 
delight when they found that they were not hope- 
lessly stranded on a desert island. 

The old sailor — who announced his name as 
Jem Jeffreys, formerly of the brig Matanzas , in 
the Cuban sugar trade, — “when the United States 
flag used to fly on the high seas,” he added, — was 
very cordial and hospitable. He gave the girls a 
pile of buffalo robes, and did his best to make 
them comfortable. He had a great store of 
preserved meat and various delicacies. He did 
not give them much chance to talk, — in fact, he 
did all the talking himself. 

They soon discovered that he had been wrecked 
on the island, and, liking the climate, had vol- 
unteered to stay there with a companion. The 
captains of all the steamers that passed knew him, 
and he had something to say of all of them. The 


A PORTENTOUS HINT 


157 


steamship companies supplied him with all the 
seed and plants he needed, and when they stopped 
for coal they were glad to take fresh vegetables 
at a very good price. The old sailor had only one 
grievance at present — he had lost his shaving- 
glass ; he apologized for the growth of beard on 
his cheeks and chin. After a while Elise delighted 
the old man by producing the triangular-shaped 
pane in the wooden frame from which she had 
learned her last lesson. 

Jeffreys was pleased ; he forgot his rheumatism. 
Tom and Lucy attracted him particularly. They 
were like his little nephew and niece up in Maine, 
he said. 

Lucy asked him how old his niece was, and her 
name. 

“ Esmeralda, my dear ; and she must be just 
your age — but bless me ! I haven’t seen her for 
over twenty years ! She must be older now. 
How time flies I ” 

And he laughed at his mistake. Jimmy was 
glad to see the rest of the party join gaily in the 
laugh. It was the first hearty laugh that he had 
heard since they left the Oceanic. 

Jeffreys hobbled through the greenhouses, 


158 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


showing them a lemon-tree full of fruit, and an 
orange-tree which had both fruit and blossoms. 
There were a few roses ; the rest of the green- 
houses had onions, young lettuce, parsley, and 
potatoes ; the vegetables under the glass frame on 
the ground were mostly green tomatoes. 

The boys seized the water-cans and went 
through the greenhouses, directed by the sailor, 
who now sat resting in his chair. The girls, 
under the same direction, searched for the red 
spiders which were the dread of Jeffreys’ life ; 
they were the only things he was afraid of. 

The boys were shocked to find how little they 
knew about common things. Jimmy’s knowledge 
of cooking was small compared to that of Jef- 
freys. When Jimmy presented him with stew, 
he called out : 

“ You landlubber, do you call that lobscouse ? 
You’ll have to learn to cook ! ” 

“ It seems to me,” said Tom, after a hard day’s 
work in the hothouse, “ we learned a lot, — but 
not enough to keep ourselves alive anywhere. I 
can’t even tie a knot properly.” 

Jeffreys laughed. “ Landlubbers ! ” he said. 

The recovery of his shaving-glass added to his 


A POKTENTOUS HINT 


159 


good humor, and Jimmy’s quickness in under- 
standing his directions confirmed him in his pleas- 
ant mood. The boys worked so willingly that 
they had sprayed the under side of the leaves of 
all the important plants in a short space of time. 
Jeffreys had invented a decoction for this purpose ; 
for tobacco and tobacco smoke were of no use. 
u They thrive on these,” he said ; “ and if they 
were boys, they’d be cigarette smokers. They’re 
pesky enough to poison human beings, like cigar- 
ette fiends, if they had the chance.” 

Tom looked guilty. He had considered it a 
“ smart ” thing to smoke cigarettes. But Aunt 
Susan had made him promise not to do it any 
more ; however, he suspected that the old sailor 
was making a fling at him. And the old sailor 
saw his conscious look and chuckled. 

“ A boy that smokes cigarettes every day is 
sure to be a liar,” he said, “ and if he gets a 
chance he’ll be a thief ; — mark my words.” 

Tom blushed. 

“ I’m in earnest ! ” said the old man. “ By the 
way,” he asked, changing the subject, “ I wish I 
could find my ‘ Plymouth Rocks.’ They’ve wan- 
dered off somewhere.” 


160 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ ¥e know,” said Tom, laughing, “and we owe 
you for a lot of eggs.” 

The young people spent the evening on the lawn 
in front of Jeffreys’ hut. He told stories of sea- 
life, while they sat silent, watching the moon as 
it rose, and hearing the measured dash of the 
waves coming from outside the wall of rock. 

They were almost happy — all except Jimmy. 
There was a great weight on his heart. Hitherto 
he had been buoyed by the necessity of working 
for the others. He was very sad. All his 
mother’s hopes were at an end. He should have 
to go back to Thornydale, to be a hewer of wood 
and a milker of cows all his life. His dear mother 
would grow old before his eyes, working harder 
each day with no hope for him. It would take a 
long time to pay off his father’s debts, — it would 
mean many weary steps for her, many doubts, 
many anxieties ; for his good will and young 
muscles could not save her these. His heart sank. 
He wished that his mother and he were on this 
island, free from the scorn of the rich and proud, 
with no one to care for but themselves. “ After 
all,” he reflected, “ all people were not proud. The 
Drews were rich, but he was sure they would not 


A PORTENTOUS HINT 


161 


look down on his dear mother. Oh, I wish I 
could make her live like other people ! Oh, her 
poor hands, how hard and wrinkled they are ! 
For me ! All for me ! ” He was alone ; — so he 
bowed his head and sobbed until a little prayer 
brought him hope. 

He walked towards his companions. He sighed. 
Elise turned in surprise. 

“ You have been so cheerful ! ” she said. “ Why 
are you ‘ blue 5 now ? ” 

Jimmy was embarrassed. “ Oh ! ” he answered, 
“ I don’t know — that is — to tell the truth,” he 
continued, “ I hate to think that I shall have to 
see my mother work when I go home. I hoped 
that things would have changed.” 

Elise made no answer. Jimmy, who was study- 
ing a page of “ The Following of Christ ” every 
day, ran over his day’s lesson in his mind. 

Elise took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. 

“ Elizabeth,” she whispered, “ I am sorry for 
myself. How silly I — we — have been ! I wish 
I were half as good as Jimmy Brogan.” 

“ I wish I were,” Elizabeth answered, simply. 
“ I wish that I were as good as Amelie, too.” 

“ I hate Amelie. You’re always talking of 


162 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


Amelie,” said Elise, hotly. “ She’s only a dis- 
tant cousin.” 

“ That’s not it.” Elizabeth paused a moment, 
to gain control over her temper. “ But see what 
Amelie has done for me, though she is so far away. 
I will tell you. You know how good Aunt Susan 
is ; — but she is content to have us well fed and 
well dressed, and happy when we learn things at 
school ; — but she’s not like a mother, and father 
is nearly always away. There was nobody to talk 
to us about things that really count, you know. 
Teachers are too busy ; — you can’t expect them to 
pay special attention to you. But children must 
have somebody. You see I’d be very silly, if I did 
not have some serious person who understood me. 
Amelie is so much older, and, when she visited 
us, she was so fine and sweet and gentle, that we 
all said, £ Amelie shall be our little mother.’ She 
went far away — to France ; but she has never for- 
gotten her promise to write every week. And it’s 
been a great lesson to us never to forget our friends 
when they are away. You see if Amelie did not 
answer our letters, we’d feel hurt, — and now we all 
know, even Tom, that other people are hurt 
when their letters are not answered, — oh, Amelie 


A PORTENTOUS HINT 


163 


has taught us so many great little things. If ever 
I have influenced you for good, Elise, it was all 
Amelie, not me.” 

Elise did not quite like this. 

“Can’t we help Jimmy Brogan?” she asked, 
turning to Dick. 

Dick grunted. “ The best thing you can do,” 
he said, “ is to let him alone. God will help him 
and he’ll help himself. But, if you condescend to 
ask my advice, I should suggest that you try to 
make up by your manner to him for what he has 
suffered ” 

“Yes, yes ! ” said Elise, hastily. 

The old sailor’s eyes, sharp as needles, had no- 
ticed Jimmy’s thoughtfulness. He asked him to 
help him to walk around the path which bounded 
the vegetable garden. Jimmy gladly consented. 
When they were out of ear-shot of the young peo- 
ple, the sailor asked Jimmy many questions about 
his home life. Jimmy answered truthfully. The 
sailor said little ; but he showed sudden interest 
when Jimmy spoke of Mr. Drew’s rafts. 

“ If you had money, what would you do with 
it?” 

“ I would buy mother a house and save her 


164 


AMELIE IN FEANCE 


from the hard work she does, pay off father’s 
debts, and then get a good education for myself.” 

“ Why do you want an education ? Isn’t an 
education useful only to get money ? If you had 
money, why should you want an education ? ” 

Jimmy looked in amazement at the old sailor. 
“ Do you really mean what you say ? ” he asked. 

“You haven’t answered my question.” 

“Well,” said Jimmy, “I can only say that I 
should rather be poor all my life if I had an edu- 
cation than rich without one.” 

“Well said! I wish all American boys had 
your spirit. I’m not a man of education myself, 

• — I wish from my heart I was. But I sometimes 
think that in heaven I shall get what I couldn’t 
get on earth. I learned too well that if a man 
neglects his chances in early life, money will not 
make up for it when he is older.” 

Jeffreys had dropped his usual drawl and his 
expletives like “ dog gone ” and “ pesky.” He 
spoke so seriously that Jimmy felt an added re- 
spect for him. 

“ I hope God will let me be a good priest,” said 
Jimmy. “ I pray for that every day.” 

Jeffreys’ face changed. 


A PORTENTOUS HINT 


165 


“ Are you a Catholic ? ” 

“ Why, certainly,” said Jimmy. “ Didn’t you 
know ? We are all Catholics.” 

Jeffreys was silent ; then he said : 

“ I am glad of it. Perhaps you can explain 
some things — but I have a secret. Do you want 
to be rich ? ” 

Jimmy was astonished by this question. 

“ I don’t know,” he said. “ I want to help my 
mother; I want to be well educated; I want 
many things ” 

“ I understand. If I make you rich, will you 
give up your desire of becoming a priest ? ” 

“ Never ! ” said Jimmy, firmly. “ Never ! ” 

The old sailor said it was getting chilly, and 
they walked back to the hut in silence. 


1G6 


AMELIEIN FRANCE 


XXI 

THE GUNPOWDER 

Jeffreys and the young people became better 
friends every day. Mr. Kichards, whose recovery 
was very slow, spent most of his time in reading 
“ The Following of Christ.” 

Jeffreys told Jimmy a great many things about 
himself. He spoke of his hardships when a boy 
in Maine. He told him that he had gone to Hew 
York on board a schooner, and had shipped again 
from that city; and he said that he hoped no 
friend of his would ever go to sea. “ That little 
fellow, Tom, likes to listen to sea yarns. He is 
never tired of them. You just disgust him as 
much as possible. Don’t let him read dime nov- 
els, or he’ll be ruined before he is able to reason 
like a man. It was dime novels that sent me to 
sea. It means hard work, hard knocks, and bad 
language.” 

“ We don’t have dime novels now,” said Jimmy. 
" But there’s a lot of detective stories about.” 

“ Detective stories did not exist in my time ; I 


THE GUNPOWDER 


167 


calculate if there had been detective stories in my 
time, I’d have been a detective. That might have 
been worse, or it might have been better.” 

After a time Jeffreys confided to Jimmy that 
he did not like priests or Catholics. Jimmy 
laughed. It seemed so queer. Elise came up to 
the parsley plot just then, and asked what they 
were talking about. Jimmy made no answer. 
Jeffreys turned around and said sharply that he 
disliked priests and Catholics, and that he wasn’t 
ashamed of it. 

“ Well, you ought to be,” answered Elise, whom 
prosperity was beginning to enliven a little. 

“ Why ought I to be ? ” demanded the old sailor. 

“Because you are ignorant and bigoted,” ex- 
claimed Elise, her color rising. “ Because you 
are without sense enough to understand anything. 
Of course there are a great many low people who 
are Catholics ; but if you ever come to Thornydale 
you will see that there are many Catholics there, 
like ourselves and the MacCarthys, who are quite 
in society.” 

“ And how about Jimmy here ? ” asked Jeffreys, 
with a twinkle in his eye. 

Elise assumed one of her old airs. It was so 


168 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


“ queenly ” that Elizabeth, who had been doing 
good work all the morning among the red spiders 
in a plot near by, was, as she would have expressed 
it, “ transfixed with admiration.” 

Elizabeth joined the group. 

Elise turned to her. “ Mr. Jeffreys,” she said, 
“ is finding fault with us Catholics. I have been 
telling him that he has a very wrong idea of us. 
He seems to think that we are all low and entirely 
without social position ” 

“ I don’t know anything about ‘ social position,’ ” 
interrupted Jeffreys, taking off his cap and wiping 
his forehead with a large red silk handkerchief ; 
for he began to feel embarrassed, and wished he 
had held his tongue ; “ but I think Jimmy Brogan’s 
the best of you, for all that.” 

“ Jimmy’s very well,” said Elise, forgetting her 
good resolutions. “ Of course we associate with 
him on equal terms here, but in Thornydale it is 
different. Jimmy’s only a milk-boy there.” 

Elizabeth began to cry. Dick shook his fist 
behind Elise’s back. Jimmy wished something 
would happen. 

“ Give me Jimmy ! ” said Jeffreys. “ There’s 
no Bloody Mary about him / ” 


THE GUNPOWDER 


169 


Elise lost her temper entirely. “ And no Henry 
YIII. about me ! We didn’t murder priests and 
nuns ! ” 

“It’s a lie!” returned Jeffreys, mopping his 
forehead. His history was a little hazy ; he, how- 
ever, had some remembrance of Bible history. 
“Who murdered Moses in the bulrushes?” he 
demanded, triumphantly. 

“ Martin Luther ! ” responded Tom, who had 
been listening, and who could not resist joining 
the fray. 

“ Martin Luther isn’t in the Bible ! ” said Jeffreys, 
hotly. “ You can’t prove that” 

“ I do not know where he is, but I know where he 
ought to be,” retorted Tom, pointing downward. 

“ If you say another word, I’ll drive you off my 
island ! ” cried Jeffreys. 

“ You can’t,” said Tom. 

“ What I do say,” broke in Elise, “ that low- 
class Catholics have prejudiced Mr. Jeffreys against 
us.” 

Jeffreys grew redder in the face. Elise faced 
him, ready to continue the battle, waving Tom away 
with one hand. They were all thoroughly excited. 

“I don’t know much about history but I do 


170 


AMELIE ITT FRANCE 


know that — that — well, I won’t say, just because 
Jimmy Brogan’s a Catholic. But as for you, 
Miss Thorndyke, you ought to be ashamed to 
quarrel with an old man like me. If I had the 
education you pretend to have, I shouldn’t talk 
like you. Your priests can’t be what some of 
your people say they are, if you are the best 
Christian they make.” 

Elise was abashed by this. She walked away 
silently. She knew she had been harsh with the 
old man. "What would Father Reardon have told 
her ? To be gentle ; to be meek ; not to return 
accusation for accusation. She walked over to 
Mr. Richards. He was asleep under an improvised 
umbrella made of sail-cloth. His book had fallen 
from his hand. Elise picked it up ; turning the 
pages nervously, she saw these passages : 

“It is oftentimes a small thing that casts me 
down and troubles me. 

“ I make a resolution to behave myself valiantly, 
but when a small temptation comes I am brought 
into great straits.” 

Elise closed the book. She asked herself why 
it was that Jimmy Brogan seemed to be such a 
favorite. Even her own brother preferred his 


THE GUNPOWDER 


171 


society to hers. He had been “ nobody ” in her 
set at Thornydale, but at sea he was “ everybody.’’ 
Why ? Because he was kind and honest and 
good ; because he made Father Reardon’s instruc- 
tions his rule of life ; because he did everything 
he could for others, not thinking of himself. 
And here she, Elise Thorndyke, with all her 
aptness in controversy, had been made a reproach 
on the aause she was defending, because — and she 
admitted it — she had given way to pride and ill- 
temper. 

“ Jimmy,” said Jeffreys, looking after Elise, “ I 
never hated Catholics so much as I do now.” 

Jimmy went on with his work. He could see 
that Elise had done much mischief. But he saw 
no means of remedying it. 

Jeffreys was gruff all the afternoon. He sat on 
a rock and watched the boys work. He grumbled 
about the rheumatism and made the boys wheel 
ten or eleven barrels from one cave to another 
when they were almost too tired to stand ; for the 
task of looking carefully after each plant was not 
an easy one. 

“ Handle those barrels carefully,” he said, 
crossly ; 4 4 there is gunpowder in them.” 


172 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


You may imagine how well Jimmy and Dick 
obeyed this injunction. 

Tired as they were, the boys said the rosary 
before they went to bed. 

“ Stop that gibberish ! ” Jeffreys yelled — he had 
turned into his couch. 

The boys went on in a lower tone. 

This did not satisfy Jeffreys. He called out 
again : “ Ain’t you tired enough to go to bed ? 
Jump in there, and stop your nonsense ! ” 

“ We’ll jump out and find a place somewhere 
else, if you keep on,” said Dick. 

“We are saying our prayers,” added Tom. 
“We’ve worked hard enough for you to-day U> 
have earned that privilege, at least.” 

Jeffreys said no more. He watched the young 
people. He was impressed by their observance 
of their religious duties, though he grumbled. 
Every Sunday morning Dick read the Prayers for 
Mass aloud. Jeffreys stood aloof, outwardly 
contemptuous, but inwardly admiring. He was 
almost conquered one day when Elise came to him 
and begged his pardon. 

“ If I had followed Father Eeardon’s instruc- 
tions — he’s our priest, you know, — I should not 


THE GUNPOWDER 


173 


have behaved so disrespectfully and hatefully to 
you the other day. You mustn’t think that our 
priests teach us anything that is not good.” 

Jeffreys grunted discontentedly; but he gave 
Elise the first ripe tomato of the season. 

Jeffreys continued to watch them all. One 
Sunday, a few days before a steamer was expected, 
he asked Jimmy to take a walk. This meant that 
Jimmy should support him as he hobbled along. 

“ I take back what I said about your religion,” 
he began. “ I don’t care anything about history, 
or whether Bloody Mary murdered Moses or not ; 
but I can see that you are good children, and I 
can see, too, that your religion keeps you straight. 
I don’t know how it is with other people, but if I 
have to choose between an old duffer like Martin 
Luther whom I didn’t know, and a good Catholic 
like you whom I do, I choose the man I know. 
If Martin said a church was bad that makes 
young people good, then Martin lied, — that’s all ! 
An ounce of good example is worth a hundred 
pounds of argument. When I see a Christian 
a-lying and a-swearing and a-raising rows, except 
when he has to, I don’t feel much inclined to let 
him talk me down, —that’s all ! ” 


174 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


This was very pleasant and unexpected to 
Jimmy. He began at once to explain Catholic 
belief to Jeffreys, who listened with great interest. 

After a while Jeffreys interrupted his instructor. 
“ Look here, boy,” he said ; “ I want to tell you a 
secret. I know where one of Mr. Drew’s rafts 
is.” 

Jimmy stared at him in amazement. 

“ Yes, I do. There was an awful storm one 
night, and the water rose so high that the raft 
was thrown clear over the rocks on the east side, 
into the quiet water. But the question is now : 
How to get it out again. If a steamer comes the 
raft will probably be broken up. If you can find 
any way of getting it out, it’s yours ; you can 
claim Mr. Drew’s reward. How that I know 
more about Catholics, I am not afraid of playing 
into the devil’s hands by making you rich. But 
as the raft is inside a wall of rock, I don’t see 
what good it can do you.” . 

Jimmy’s eyes sparkled. He thought a moment 
and then asked : “ Didn’t you say there was gun- 
powder in those kegs ? ” 


THE TIGER 


175 


XXII 

THE TIGER 
\ 

“ Gunpowder, of course,” answered Jeffreys ; 
“ but what has that to do with the raft ? ” 

Jimmy was a boy, and he felt very much of a 
boy when Jeffreys asked this question in such a 
doubtful tone. 

“I thought,” he stammered a little, — “well,” 
he continued, “I may as well tell you that I 
thought the gunpowder might be used for blow- 
ing away some of the rocks ; and if that were 
done we could float the raft out, and get the 
steamer to tow it to shore.” 

Jeffreys chuckled. “Just to think of it!” he 
said. Then he chuckled again. “ You’ve more 
sense than most landlubbers. Jim Barlow never 
thought of that. He was my chum here for a 
while. And when he was going away I thought 
I’d just give him that raft if he had gumption 
enough to get it out ; but he hadn’t. Bless you ! 
he wasn’t smart. I saw there wasn’t much in him 


176 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


after he was here a while. He was the kind of 
sailor that would blow his gaff on a man ; he’d 
shirk his grog,” cried the old sailor, growing 
warmer ; “ he’d steal out of the menarvlin 
basket ! ” 

Jimmy tried to feel impressed by these awful 
revelations. Jeffreys fixed him with his eyes, as 
if to watch him grow pale and tremble at the 
enormity of Jim Barlow’s deeds. 

“ He went off with my best pipe, and an over- 
coat that I hadn’t had on for more than eleven 
years. It was almost as good as new. But he 
couldn’t take the raft. He hadn’t sense enough 
for that.” 

It was not until a day or two after this conver- 
sation that Jeffreys had time to return to the sub- 
ject of the raft. With advancing spring the 
vegetables required more attention, and even Mr. 
Richards was called in to keep the red spider at 
a distance. Elise was obliged to leave her novel, 
and she began to find pleasure in work, though it 
was tiresome at first. The crop of onions was 
her especial care. It would be ready by the time 
the steamer came. And she took as much pleasure 
in it as she had taken in her novels. 


THE TIGER 


177 


Elizabeth, working quietly in her garden patch, 
thought more than she had ever before in her life. 
IIovv anxious she had been about parties and 
dresses and all lands of trifles at Thornydale! 
She remembered how she had plagued poor Aunt 
Susan for a new white lace frock in the summer, 
because Elise had one ; she remembered how angry 
she had been because Mrs. Irving asked Elise to 
pour out the tea at the last “ sociable,” when she 
had come in first. How important all these things 
had seemed to her ! She remembered how often 
she had neglected going to confession because she 
wanted to take a walk or go out to tea, or because 
she was tired. How, far from a church or priest, 
she longed ardently to perform those religious 
acts which were at once duties and consolations. 
She used to say sometimes that she hated the first 
Friday because it was confession day. She thought 
over this now, and made heartfelt prayers that she 
might live to make up for her callousness by the 
fervor of her confessions and Communions. 

During the long hours spent among the plants 
Elizabeth became a better and gentler girl. The 
blessed meaning which contented and quiet work 
bears for hearts capable of understanding it came 


173 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


to her. "When the sun was hot, and she was 
tempted to stop looking under the leaves of the 
vegetables for the destructive spider, she remem- 
bered how the Blessed Child Jesus had worked 
for St. Joseph in the little garden before the house 
at Nazareth. She had had a picture of it which 
Amelie had sent her, and so thoroughly did this 
tender thought fill her mind that she drew on a 
little card the picture as she remembered it. Jef- 
freys admired it very much. It represented a 
little house in a garden of flowers. Under a palm- 
tree was the Holy Child sawing a plank. Near 
Him stood St. Joseph watching Him, “ for fear,” 
Lucy said, “ that He might cut His fingers.” 

The Blessed Yirgin sat with her spinning-wheel 
near a rose-bush. Elizabeth drew this on the 
back of a card she found in her satchel. Tom and 
Lucy and Jeffreys examined it carefully. It was 
not very correct in drawing, but they did not 
trouble themselves about that. 

“ It’s too bad that our dear Lord hadn’t any 
little brothers or sisters ! ” said Lucy. “ He had 
to play and work all by Himself.” 

“ We’re His brothers and sisters,” answered 
Tom. “ He didn’t want anybody but us.” 


THE TIGER 


179 


“ That’s true,” put in Jeffreys, “ and I like to 
hear you young folks say it. Somehow, I never 
felt the God-Man to be so real until I heard you 
Catholics talk about Him. Why, one would think 
He was with you every day 1 ” 

“Well, He is, I hope,” said Elizabeth, turning 
with a smile. 

Jeffreys smoked his pipe in silence after this, 
tilting back his chair, and fixing his eyes on Eliza- 
beth’s card. Elise, watching him, had her thoughts 
too. Why was it, she asked herself, that Jeffreys 
seemed so much touched by that little picture when 
he had resented all her attempts at controversy ? 
After some thought she came to the conclusion 
that she had been trying “ to show off ” her his- 
torical knowledge, and that it was anger at Jef- 
freys rather than a desire to enlighten him which 
had induced her to make her onslaught on him. 

Elise, who drew better than Elizabeth, made a 
series of pictures of the life of Our Lord. And 
Elizabeth supplemented them with the Stations 
of the Cross and proposed that they should read 
the Stations of the Cross every night for their 
deliverance from danger, and that they might 
see home. 


180 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


The first night Dick, who was the best reader, 
undertook to lead. Elizabeth put the picture of 
each Station in front of the candle as Dick read. 
Jeffreys’ eyes became moist before they fin- 
ished. When Dick had reached the last Station, 
Jeffreys had turned his face to the wall. The 
children pretended not to notice it. After a time 
the old sailor said : 

“ Your religion is very real. I never felt God 
to be so near.” 

Lucy ran over to the old man, and put her arms 
around his neck. 

“Nobody ever told me how He suffered be- 
fore,” he said, in a hoarse voice. “ If one of 
your priests ever comes this way I want to see 
him.” 

The next day he took Jimmy to the part of the 
island where the raft was. He told him to bring 
his axe, well sharpened. Jeffreys carried a re- 
volver. 

“ What is that for ? ” Jimmy asked. 

Jeffreys hesitated. He seemed troubled. 
Jimmy looked at him in surprise. Then the old 
man said : 

“ There is only one danger for us on this island. 


THE TIGER 


181 


And I can’t say that it really is here, but I am 
afraid ” 

Jimmy looked up in amazement. This tough 
old sailor was the last man he would think of as 
being afraid of anything. 

“ I am afraid that there’s one of them here, — in 
fact, I heard sounds the last time I was here. You 
may need your axe, so look after it.” 

“ One of what ? ” asked Jimmy. 

“You’ll know soon enough,” answered the 
sailor, gruffly. “ I’d have settled him long ago, 
but the rheumatism was tugging at me ; and Barlow 
was a lubber, afraid of the shadow of a mast in 
the moonlight.” 

“ Him f What t him ’ ? Who is 4 him ’ ? ” 
demanded Jimmy. “ I will not go a step forward 
until I know just what you mean.” 

Jimmy stood still. 

“ Come on, then,” said Jeffreys. “ I suppose I 
must tell you ; but when you hear what I have to 
say, I know you’ll turn back. There was a brig 
wrecked off this island a month ago. It was the 
Osprey , Captain Marks, Liverpool to New York. 
It was a leaky old tub in ’64, — I remember Marks 
used to grumble about it then. Well, the Osprey 


182 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


went to pieces. Marks and the mates and the 
crew swam ashore, and were taken off by the City 
of Lisbon the next day. But I am sorry to say 
one of the passengers was saved.” 

Jimmy looked at Jeffreys in horror. 

“ Why, what do you mean ? ” he asked, after a 
pause. “ You talk as if you were worse than a 
cannibal.” 

“ He’s worse than a cannibal. The other three 
— shipped from the Zoological Garden at London 
for the Central Park menagerie, and valued at 
three thousand dollars, — were drowned. This 
beast ” 

“ This what ? ” asked Jimmy, his face growing 
paler. 

“Well, if you must know it. He’s a Bengal 
tiger, and he lives in a jungle on the east side of 
the island. We must pass it to get to the raft, — 
there ! I knew you’d back out ! ” 

Jimmy had stepped back. But he swung his 
axe in his hand, after a moment’s thought, and 
stepped forward in advance of Jeffreys. 

“ That’s right ! ” chuckled the sailor. “ A 
rheumatic old man with a revolver and a boy with 
an axe ! He’ll find me the toughest.” 


THE TIGER 


183 


Jimmy made no answer. His heart beat 
rapidly. He walked on beside Jeffreys, looking 
anxiously from side to side, expecting to catch 
sight of the stripes of the deadly beast. 


184 : 


AMELIE IN FllANCE 


XXIII 

JEFFREYS’ DANGER 

Jeffreys stumbled along, grumbling at the 
stupidity of his old friend Marks, who had been so 
foolish as to venture to set sail in his brig with 
wild beasts aboard. Jimmy marched boldly ahead, 
looking carefully to right and left. Once they 
stopped short. Was that a growl ? They listened. 
It was only the wind rushing through a clump of 
dried bushes. 

They reached the east side of the island without 
any accident. Between the outer wall of rock 
and the shore, in the quiet sea behind this natural 
breakwater, lay the raft. It was the biggest raft 
Jimmy had ever seen. 

“ If Mr. Drew were only here how happy he 
would be ! ” 

“ He may be happy yet,” chuckled Jeffreys. 
“ But now how are you going to get that raft out 
into the ocean ? If a great storm should rise, the 


JEFFREYS’ DANGER 


1S5 


chances are that the raft would be dashed to 

pieces. And ” 

“ But how did it get in ?” 

“ There was a tremendous storm, — a corker ! 
The sea rose high above the rocks, and, by a 
strange notion the ocean has at times, ran the 
raft over the rocks, and left it there. The sea 
does strange things, as every ‘ sailorman ’ can tell 
you.” 

Jimmy interrupted him. “ I see just what can 
be done,” he said ; “ for many a time I have 
watched the men blasting rocks near our house. 
If you will lend me your boat — or perhaps I can 
use the yawl, — I’ll take gunpowder over there to- 
morrow, and I think I can make a fuse and blow 
up the thin line of rock just opposite to us.” 

Jeffreys laughed. “ You have plenty of pluck, 
my boy. But you’ll need more than pluck for a 
work like that. It took that great engineer, Gen- 
eral Newton, a long time to blow up Hell Gate. 
You’ve heard of that ? ” 

“ Oh, but this is different ! If we could get rid 
of that big rock in the centre of the line, the sea 

would pour over ” 

“ And spoil my quiet island.” 


186 


AMELIE IN FKANCE 


“ That is true,” answered Jimmy, after a little 
thought. “ It is better that the raft should go to 
pieces than that your home should be destroyed. 
To blast the rock would be the only way of get- 
ting the raft into the sea.” 

“You can do as you please,” said Jeffreys. 
“ Take the raft, claim the reward, and go away, 
leaving my little island at the mercy of the sea.” 

“ What do you take me for ? ” asked Jimmy. 
“ I am surprised, Mr. Jeffreys, that you should 
think that I would do such a thing, even to gain 
Mr. Drew’s reward.” 

“ You wouldn’t ? ” 

“ Ho, I wouldn’t. Do you think I could, after 
all your kindness to me ? ” 

Jeffreys looked at him closely. “ I believe you, 
boy, — yes, I believe you. The truth is I have 
grown suspicious in my old age, and I just wanted 
to try you ; and you’ve proved yourself to be hon- 
est and true. That line of rock is deceiving. 
There is really an outlet there large enough to 
admit the steamer, and even large enough to let the 
raft pass out — if it were managed with skill, and 
by somebody, like me, who knows the soundings. 
I see by your face that you think I have played a 


JEFFREYS’ DANGER 


1ST 


mean trick in trying you this way ; but I’ll make 
up for it. As soon as the steamer comes, I’ll show 
you how it can be towed out, and I’ll give it to 
you. You can claim the reward with a clear con- 
science. I’ve no use for money ; I have as much 
as I want. But — look! There’s that beast! 
Look at him ! ” 

Jimmy turned in the direction pointed to by 
the old sailor. About a hundred yards from 
them, in a circle of bushes, the head of the tiger 
was visible. Jimmy watched it as if fascinated. 
It was a magnificent head, velvety and beauti- 
fully striped, but cruel and vicious-looking. The 
wind blew away from them out to sea, and the 
tiger had not yet scented them. 

“He must be pretty hungry by this time,” 
whispered Jeffreys. 

Jimmy noticed for the first time that on the 
beach at their feet lay several large fish, very 
much mangled. The tiger had evidently been on 
the watch for such fish as inadvertently came 
within his clutches ; he had mangled them, but 
refused to eat them. 

Jeffreys turned pale. “ Let us go,” he said ; 
“ the sight of the fish torn up in that way makes 


188 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


me sick. How he’d tear us limb from limb if he 
could. I’d face the sea-serpent or anything in 
salt-water, but I am afraid of these horrible land 
beasts. Come, let us go.” 

Jeffreys turned suddenly ; but his rheumatism 
had made him stiff, and he stumbled before Jimmy 
could prevent it. In so doing he displaced a 
small piece of rock, which fell with a slight noise. 
The tiger started up from the bushes. He saw 
his prey in an instant. In about the same space 
of time the animal, with blazing eyes, had crossed 
half the distance between the bushes and our 
friends. Jimmy wanted to run away ; but he 
raised his axe and stepped before Jeffreys, who 
was trying to get up. 

“ The revolver ! ” the old sailor whispered, his 
hands trembling. 

Jeffreys had faced many dangers by sea and 
land, but now ill health and the awful suddenness 
of the tiger’s appearance unnerved him. Jimmy, 
seeing that the defence depended entirely on him, 
forgot his fear. He took the revolver in his right 
hand and grasped the axe with his left. The tiger 
crouched, switching his tail to and fro. Jimmy 
saw only the yellow eyes of the tiger, — every thing 


JEFFREYS’ DANGER 


189 


else seemed black to him. The animal made a 
tremendous bound ; just at that moment the boy, 
aiming for one of its eyes, fired. 

The tiger’s bound carried him too far. He 
passed over the head of Jimmy and Jeffreys, and 
came to the ground about five feet behind them. 
The shot had failed to tell ; but the flash seemed 
to daze the tiger. Dropping the revolver, al- 
though it was still loaded, Jimmy seized the axe 
in his right hand. This was a weapon he under- 
stood better than the revolver. He faced the 
tiger, and, before the angry beast could recover 
from the effect of the explosion, he raised the axe 
in both his hands and brought it down with all 
his force on the animal’s skull. It swerved aside. 
Jimmy made blow follow blow. The tiger, with 
horrible roars and struggles, rolled over. Jeffreys 
arose, still trembling. The tiger shivered, and 
then, with a convulsive movement that seemed to 
mix all the beautiful yellow of his coat with its 
soft black stripes, stretched out and died. 

Jeffreys touched the magnificent animal with 
his stick. He picked up his pistol and glanced at 
Jimmy, who stood, pale and panting, beside him. 

“Well,” said Jeffreys at last, “a sea-captain 


190 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


that makes a menagerie of his ship onght to go 
around to take care of the animals when they 
break loose. It is a fine skin. I’ll cut it off and 
make you a present of it, — though I must say that 
I hope you will not drop your pistol next time.” 

“ I hope there may nob be a tiger to meet 
‘ next time,’ ” said Jimmy. He knelt down on the 
sand and said a little prayer of thanksgiving. 
Jeffreys took off his hat. 

Together they dragged the tiger farther from 
the sea, for the tide was coming in. Jeffreys 
took out two big clasp-knives which he always 
carried, and began to skin the tiger with great 
skill. He told Jimmy that he had learned the 
taxidermist trade in Japan while waiting to have 
a ship repaired. Jeffreys then insisted that the raft 
must be liberated. 

Jimmy lost no time. Carefully he prepared 
for clearing away the line of rock, which was 
barely high enough to keep the raft from floating 
out. With Jeffreys’ assistance, he took sufficient 
powder to the point of the least resistance, — he 
didn’t want to waste powder. He warned the rest 
of the party, lighted the fuse, and the explosion 
came, tearing away part of the protecting line. 


JEFFREYS’ DANGER 


191 


“ It can be done ! ” exclaimed Jimmy, trium- 
phantly. “We’ll let the raft stay where it is 
until a ship is sighted.” 

Jeffreys said that this would be prudent. He 
concluded, on careful examination, that the break- 
ing away of the rock would not necessarily cause 
the island to be overflown. “ The big wall will 
remain,” he said, “ and that well be sufficient pro- 
tection.” 

Jimmy remembered Aunt Susan’s kindness. 
He said to himself that the tiger skin would make 
a nice rug for her. It would, perhaps, show her 
that he had not forgotten her goodness. 

You can imagine the amazement with which 
everybody in camp heard the story of the tiger. 
Jeffreys had great difficulty in making Lucy and 
Tom believe that there were no other tigers on 
the island. 

The young people were too busy with the tiger 
all the next day to think even of the steamer. 
Towards sunset Mr. Richards discovered a dot on 
the horizon, and later it became a light. By nine 
o’clock the brig Woodpecker , piloted by Jeffreys, 
who went out to meet her, entered the quiet belt 
of water on the east side of the island. The 


192 


AMEL1E IN FRANCE 


captain, mate, and crew came ashore, and Jeffreys 
made a good bargain with the captain about 
the raft, according to which Jimmy was to pay 
one-tenth of his reward from Mr. Drew for the 
trouble of towing it to Liverpool. The Wood- 
pecker was supplied with coal, water, and some 
vegetables, and went on her way, with the raft in 
tow. 

Three days after her departure, the steamer 
City of Brooklyn glided majestically towards the 
island. 

“ And now for home ! ” was the cry. 


all’s well ! 


193 


XXIV 
all’s well ! 

In the meantime there was an anxious group on 
the deck of the City of Brooklyn . The steamer 
was bound from Liverpool to Xew York, and on 
board of it were Aunt Susan, Mr, Thorndyke, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Drew. They came to be there 
in this way. Aunt Susan, as soon as the news of 
the loss of the Oceanic had been cabled, went to 
Xew York and took passage for Liverpool. There 
she met Mr. Thorndyke, who had resolved to go 
to New York in the hope that something might 
be heard of his children. 

Mr. and Mrs. Drew and the rest of the pas- 
sengers of the ill-fated Oceanic arrived about this 
time. You can imagine the grief of Mr. Thorn- 
dyke and Aunt Susan when they found that the 
young people were not with them. Mr. Drew 
afterwards said that Aunt Susan’s face was the 
most heartrending spectacle he had ever seen. 
Aunt Susan telegraphed to Dublin, and there was 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


194 

more sorrow. Mr. Drew had hitherto been 
wrapped up in his own affairs. He could think 
of nothing but his lost raft. How he became 
almost as much absorbed in the grief of Aunt 
Susan. 

“That poor Brogan boy,” he said over and 
over again. “ I could have helped him so much, 
and I didn’t.” He tried to equip a ship to 
cruise in search of the lost children ; but he could 
make no arrangements for obtaining the right 
kind of vessel. He was sure that the leak in the 
Oceanic had been caused by part of his rafts. 
This made him very melancholy. He often said 
to Mrs. Drew that he felt that the escape of the 
rafts was a punishment for his constant devotion 
to the acquirement of riches. 

“ You had better devote yourself to higher 
things then,” remarked Mrs. Drew. 

“ I would,” answered Mr. Drew, “ if Jimmy 
were alive. I never saw such an innocent and 
kindly face as that boy had. And to think that 
he should be brought to his death through those 
wretched rafts ! I’d give half my fortune if they 
were only safely anchored in port.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” said Mrs. Drew. “ You have no 


all’s well ! 


195 


reason to believe that it was your raft, or wood 
from your raft, that did the mischief. It’s a de- 
lusion.” 

Mr. Drew shook his head sadly. 

“ I am getting old, and I am wretched that my 
life should be shadowed by such a horrible thing, — 
for it is a horrible thing.” 

Iiis wife tried to console him, but in vain. 

Shortly after this conversation Mr. Drew wan- 
dered aimlessly through the streets, lost in thought. 
His wife, with a sigh, watched him go out. She 
shook her head sadly. She feared that he might 
lose his reason from brooding over the possible in- 
jury his rafts might have done to vessels on the 
sea. 

“ I wish he were religious ! ” she said to her- 
self. “If he only had the faith of that boy, it 
would save him.” 

Mr. Drew went his way, sad and depressed. 
He became aware that there was music somewhere 
near him, and he stopped at the end of a side 
street. The music came from a little brown 
coated church a short distance up the street. Mr. 
Drew did not know it then, but the music he 
heard was the “ Tantum Ergo” He paused, but 


196 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


he had no intention of entering. lie had never 
been in a Catholic church in liis life, and he had a 
prejudice against going in. He was about to pass 
on when he caught sight of a statue in a little 
niche over the door of the church. It was a statue 
of a friar with an upturned face, and underneath 
were carved the words, “ St. Antony.” Mr. Drew 
went closer to the church and examined the 
statue. So this was Jimmy Brogan’s St. Antony, 
who had so much influence with his Lord that 
people in distress asked him to help them ! Mr. 
Drew wished that he could find out something 
more about this St. Antony. He stepped into 
the church. It was crowded ; every head was 
bowed in prayer, and Mr. Drew thought that he 
had never seen such evidence of devotion before. 
The aroma of incense, the low organ tones, the de- 
votional light, — he forgot even these in the piety 
of the people. 

He entered a pew and buried his face in his 
hands. When he arose the church was empty. A 
priest who had been kneeling at the foot of the 
altar came towards him, and Mr. Drew said : 

“ I wish, sir, you would tell me something about 
this St. Antony of yours.” 


all’s well ! 


197 


Tlie priest concealed his surprise at the child- 
like question of the old gentleman, and asked him 
to come into his house. “ I must begin, my dear 
sir, by telling you something about the Benedic- 
tion of the Blessed Sacrament. And, after that, 
we will talk of St. Antony. Our Lord must come 
first.” Then and there Mr. Drew received his 
first lesson in the doctrines of that faith which 
was to be such a deep source of consolation to 
him. He and his wife made, some months 
later, their First Communion. So Jimmy’s sim- 
ple faith and sincere words had borne good fruit. 
But in the meantime, Mr. and Mrs. Drew went to 
sea to find the children. And the happy day 
came. 

Jeffreys and Mr. Richards, Jimmy and Dick, 
rowed out to the steamer. Mr. Drew met them. 
He could not utter a word when he saw the boys. 
He wrung their hands and cried like a child. 
Then, after Dick had told him that the others 
were safe and well, he went down to ask his wife 
to prepare Aunt Susan for her great joy. 

It was a happy party that entered Jeffreys’ 
domain about an hour later. Jeffreys had deco- 
rated his little hut with a clump of tall Annunci- 


198 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


ation lilies and red tulips. Tom and Lucy kissed 
Aunt Susan until she begged them not to kill her. 
They were all very happy. 

“ And we must not forget St. Antony,” Mr. 
Drew said. “ I am sure lie has helped to find us 
all.” 

This reminded Jimmy of the raft. His news 
pleased Mr. Drew very much. 

“ My dear boy,” he said to Jimmy, “ you shall 
have the reward, and I would cheerfully give you 
more for what you have done for me. I can never 
repay you.” 

Jimmy blushed at these kind words. “ But 
Jeffreys,” said Jimmy. “It was Jeffreys that 
told me of the raft.” 

“ Jimmy managed the whole thing, sir,” said 
Jeffreys, touching his cap. 

4 4 Jeffreys shall be taken good care of.” Mr. 
Drew’s eyes beamed kindly ; he began to be happy. 
He turned to Elise. 

44 And so, mademoiselle,” Mr. Drew said, laugh- 
ing, 44 are you still so aristocratic as you were ? 
Have you learned anything by adversity ? ” 

It was Elise’s turn to blush. 

44 1 have learned, Mr. Drew,” she said, 44 that 


all’s well ! 


199 


goodness and kindness are better than anything 
else, and that I have been a very heartless and 
foolish girl.” 

“ In fact,” quoted Mr. Drew, “ that 

6 ’Tis only noble to be good, 

That hearts are more than coronets, 

And simple faith than Norman blood ’ — 

I mean ‘ Thorndyke blood.’ ” 

Elise smiled. 

“ And what have you been taught ? ” he asked 
of Dick. 

“ That every boy ought to learn how to use his 
eyes and hands, and that the worst thing in life is 
to find oneself useless when one ought to be of 
use.” 

“ Well said ! ” answered Mr. Drew. “ And you, 
Elizabeth?” 

Elizabeth hesitated. “I cannot tell what I 
have learned,” she said ; “ but I know I have un- 
learned a great deal of nonsense. I think, Mr. 
Drew, that I have learned that good advice must 
be taken seriously — when it comes from our real 
friends. Sometimes I used to think that Amelie 
preached too much. Now I see that every word 


200 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


she writes means something, because she loves 
me.” 

“ And you, Tom ? ” 

“ To work hard,” Tom said, promptly. 

Everybody laughed. 

“ And you, Bernard ? ” asked Aunt Susan, with 
a gentle smile. 

“ To be honest and not to pretend anything.” 

“ The best lesson of all ! ” said Mr. Drew. 
“ And Lucy ? ” 

“ I have learned to cook,” replied Lucy, seriously 
and proudly, holding up her hands with several 
burns on them. “ Oh, Aunt Susan, I can make 
coffee ! ” 

“ And I,” put in Jeffreys, “ have learned to love 
the faith that could make these young people grow 
better every day. I know now that a man’s an 
animal to hate what he doesn’t know about.” 

“ Bravo ! ” exclaimed Aunt Susan. 

Mr. Eichards beamed on them all. In a few 
days he would be home ; he was very happy, too. 

Aunt Susan admired the tiger skin. Jimmy 
offered it to her. She was delighted. 

The City of Brooklyn took on board all the 


all’s well ! 


201 


coal and vegetables wanted ; the young people 
said a tearful good-bye to Jeffreys, who promised 
to come to Thornydale to hear Mass with them. 
Away they sailed, not without some regret as the 
island and its circle of foam-caps were lost to 
view. 

Mr. Drew had a very comfortable, portable 
house sent out for Jeffreys, but he talks now of 
leaving his island. He wants to see his young 
friends again. He is content to know that Mr. 
Drew’s pension will enable him to travel wherever 
he wants to go. 

Elise and Bernard, Dick, Elizabeth, Lucy, and 
Tom, went across the ocean in a month or so after 
they landed in Hew York. The Thorndykes are 
now in London ; and the MacCarthys in France 
with Amelie, studying very hard. Araelie made 
such an appeal to their father, that the young 
people went to her from Dublin, for a long visit. 

Mrs. Brogan, looking a little older, was too 
moved to speak when Jimmy appeared. Mr. and 
Mrs. Drew shed tears at the spectacle of the 
meeting of the mother and son. 

Mr. Drew gave Jimmy ten thousand dollars. 
Mrs. Brogan paid off all her husband’s debts and 


202 


AMELIE IN FRANCE 


built a nice house. Jimmy was sent to college, 
where he is now, working as hard as he worked 
on Jeffreys’ island. Mr. Drew and Jimmy and 
Mr. MacCarth}^ have Masses said for the repose of 
the souls of the four dead sailors on each anniver- 
sary of their death. 

Dick is most anxious to get home to his native 
land. He likes the French school well enough, 
but he says that he cannot live another year with- 
out seeing a good game of baseball. He was in- 
clined to look on the school as too strict ; but 
Amelie said that boys needed very strict discipline 
at his age ; and, although he scoffed, — in bad 
French at her opinion, — he almost accepts it when 
he observes that he has made great progress in his 
studies. Elizabeth is homesick at times, too ; — 
but Dick and Tom say that, when they have spent 
one more Christmas with Amelie, they will go 
home, — if they are obliged to swim. 


THE END 






















































































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